Tainted
by VML99
Summary: A Lestrange. A Pureblood. A threat. A victim. Are you listening to me only because my name scares you or are you genuinely interested? I wouldn't blame you for the latter. My grandparents left little for doubt. (James/OC. Next Generation)
1. Chapter 1: Passive

**_A/N: Well hello everyone!_**

 ** _I began writing this story in 2013, on a completely different site, with only my plot figured out and three chapters written. But life happened, and I'm back here with some re-edits. For all those who have already read this once. Know that the events and plot lines have not changed. Neither have the characters but the order of narrating the events has._**

 ** _For all the new readers, Welcome to Tainted!_**

What do you do when you come across a body drenched in a pool of blood?

What do you do if that body is of a friend?

Limbs gone askew, skin bruised in a rainbow of blacks, blues and purples.

Do you scream? Do you shout? Do you cry for help? Or stay numbingly still as if death has become you by tumbling upon such a sight.

I opted for the latter. I stayed frozen in place when I saw Edward soaked in a pool of his own blood.

My world should have crashed down; anyone's should have when they see fatality this closely. But there was no roar, no scream, no crash, nothing to pull me out of my stupor, until the pool of blood drenched me when I fell to my feet by my weakened knees. That is when the tears began flowing. That is when I whimpered for help. But who would help me in such a time? Me, the abomination. Why was Ed lying in a pool of his own blood to begin with? Perhaps I should rewind a bit.

Meet me. Isabella Lestrange.

Daughter to William Lestrange.

Granddaughter to Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange.

Yes. My middle name is my fathers. And that right there is the perfect indicator of the amount of attention I'm given in my own home. Fate dealt me a hard blow. A mother who died during child birth. A father who as the years progressed became more and more of an addict. And an Aunt. Oh yes. The sole woman who has been the bane of my existence; controlling my life on levels that my father couldn't either, ensuring at every step that I got the 'right' pureblood upbringing.

Wait. Are you listening to me only because my name scares you or are you genuinely interested? I wouldn't blame you for the latter. My grandparents left little for doubt.

With a tainted reputation (despite both my parents and myself having nothing to do with the war; the cowards hid out in Italy the whole time) and an urge to learn, eleven year old I entered Hogwarts more curious than ever. With my aunt as cunning as ever and my father's wrath just as cold, it was only natural how I forced myself to become friends with the Pureblood kids only, despite telling the Sorting Hat to put me in Gryffindor. Yes, my bravery comes and goes at its own convenience.

By the tender age of twelve, I'd understood my aunt's facade to some extent. The friends I made weren't mine, but her spies. The maids who nursed me weren't nurturing, but meant to drill the 'decorum' deep into my bones. It was only natural that I developed trust issues, which I why I never trusted anyone wanting to be my friend at school either. I mean, come on, have you seen who my family is? It surprises me why Harry Potter hasn't made arrests right and left. It took me six years to make my peace with the fact that I could have true friends. And it took me only a moment's realisation to know I might lose one just now.

Which is why my mind raced to work out possibilities of what may have happened. He wasn't in his room. He _hadn't been_ in his room at all. Then where was he?

I rushed out of the Head's dorm and into the corridor. Oh, did I forget to mention, he and I are head boy and girl. _Where are your manners, Isabella?_ We live here instead of our respective Slytherin and Gryffindor 7th Year Dormitories, the Head's Dorm. It's got a common area, a kitchenette, separate bathrooms, a book shelf, a fireplace. Unnecessary privileges, I believe.

What? You think it's a shame how I mock luxuries? Well, money is only a way to mask greater transgressions. I learned this soon enough in life.

But the Head's Dorm wasn't concealing evils. It was warm and welcoming, unlike the Lestrange Manor (though having parts of it rebuilt after the war and being stripped of most of its horrors) which was the coldest, most grotesque place I had ever known.

Not tonight though; tonight the air was still and heavy in here. My mind felt fuzzy and muddled, my brain seemed to have forgotten rationality; I could not make out where to go. My feet dragged me to the Slytherin Common Room carefully dodging caretakers and prefects. Honestly, I've wandered around the castle so often at night; it is safe to say I've mastered the art of way finding in this maze of medieval madness.

I wondered whether he and Albus went there and he decided to stay in the dungeons for the night?

Half an hour and much disturbance later I found out he wasn't there either. _Then where was he?_ Albus confirmed they both walked back together to the castle. _Then where? Where did he go from there_? I did not know where I should start looking from; Albus and Scorpious however joined me in helping to find him. We checked the Astonomy Tower, the Entrance Halls; it was past curfew, the library was obviously shut too. Flinch had caught us, (those two weren't as discreet as I believed) we paid no heed to the old chap. An hour had passed. All of the Slytherins had been woken up, a search team comprising of the Slytherin prefects was already looking everywhere, through empty classrooms, hidden alcoves, secret staircases, hallways. Chaos had fully erupted, spreading like a plague from the dungeons to around the castle.

In the midst of all the commotion it struck me how no teacher had made an appearance, were they drugged on the Sleeping Draught again?

Finally, Parkinson, the Slytherin House Head, emerged from her quarters; scolding everyone back into their dorms but there was still no sign of Ed.

Until Albus –with a slap to his forehead and an exasperated yelp- remembered that he was in possession of the map this week. I mentally punched him for realising that now. What? Why are you looking so shocked? Of course I know of the map, thanks to my association with you-know-who (Bloody Hell! Not Voldemort). We rushed back to the dungeons, successfully avoiding Parkinson who tried with fail to keep us calm and in bed. Albus quickly pulled out the map from his things to locate Ed; the old parchment coming to life in front of us. He searched for his dot, folding and unfolding the map, until it finally appeared. He was still at the pitch.

So naturally, that is where we had found him.

Lying in a pool of blood.

His own blood.

Beaten to a pulp, looking small and fragile.

A broom was on the ground nearby.

I don't know how long I stood, numbingly still, as I took in the sight. I fell to my knees soon enough. I felt nauseous as I registered him lying there, limbs twisted about, skin stone cold. I tried to find a pulse in his wrist. I kept my fingers firmly pressed onto his skin as I felt a faint beat drum against the tips of mine; I momentarily breathed a sigh of relief. _He was alive_. I raised my wand to cast a patronus and inform the others not caring one bit of what they might say to us for defying their orders to stay put. _Deduct those points for all I fucking care_. It only produced a minuscule white spark.

'Liz? Let me.' Scorpious offered; a little terrified to pulling me out of this stupor. I saw Albus was already making his way back to the castle, out of the pitch.

'No. I can.' I answered determinedly. Scorpious tried to protest but I held up a hand to silence him.

I tried to breathe calmly and searched my mind for a strong happy memory. It took time but I was able to cast a patronus this time. The lioness spurred from my wand, prancing around, before it faded into the night. I looked back down at Ed. His other arm was twisted at an odd angle. Most of the blood seemed to be pouring out of his head though, contributing to the ever growing pool, the liquid warm and fresh. I pushed his shirt up to find his chest and abdomen covered in bruises. The side of his face seemed under similar effect, the skin there had also turned purple-blue. I took out my wand to start healing his wounds when Scorpious stopped me.

'Don't.' he protested. 'We do not know for sure if it is an accident or not. Plus, no offence, Liz, but you're in no state to be casting spells. McGonagall and Parkinson will be down soon.'

I lowered my wand. My eyes remained fixed onto Ed's motionless body until Scorpious pulled me to my feet.

'Come on.'

He silently levitated Ed into the air and started carrying him out of the pitch.

The rest seemed like a blur of images and voices. All I could look at was Ed's lifeless form lying in the hospital bed. His face was pale and his hand cold as I held it. The nurse for the night shift detached me from him and closed the curtains around his bed. Parkinson and McGonagall had reached the hospital Wing, with Albus behind them. They began asking us for our accounts of the events we had seen. We all shared the details with them. They informed us the other houses were not yet aware of the accident, they wanted to wait till morning before they made an announcement.

I do not particularly know when but somewhere along the line, Ed's parents seemed to have been informed and appeared beside us. They were now seated with me in the chairs next to his bed. Albus and Scorpious had returned to their dorms. McGonagall asked me to leave the wing as only family could be allowed to stay with him while arrangements were made to shift him to St. Mungo's. I obliged.

My feet dragged me back to the Head's dorm. Exhaustion was overtaking my senses now. The air in the dorm was still heavy. Robotically, I sat at the edge of my bed, my fingers gripping its edge as the sky outside turned from ink blue to an almost florescent palette of pinks and lilacs. I realised I didn't want to be in this room anymore; it suddenly felt much emptier and barren. The silence seemed to be screaming out at me, its volume fuelling me up with anger and remorse once more. Just when I thought I had cried all the tears left in my body, a fresh round issued. My feet dragged me around in the corridors; flashes of Ed lying in a pool of blood kept haunting me. Why? Why did he have to fall? Why was he still outside? Why? Why did he have to go flying? How could he be so reckless? I didn't want to be alone. I found myself sobbing again, my body betraying whatever commands I tried to give it. The emotions were hard to shut today, given how reminiscent they made me of a time as similarly horrible.

I was angry, I angry at him for being careless. I was angry at myself for not trying to find him earlier. I was just plain angry. Had I taken too long in finding him?

I vaguely remembered the nurse mentioning how he'd lost a lot of blood. A flash of how she had shaken her head when McGonagall asked her how bad the fall had been appeared at the back of my eyes. Will he make it? Will he be alright? What if... What if he does not wake up? My body felt heavy as I again thought back to where I had found him. I was filled with fear and rage once more. Energy coursed through my veins and I started running. My irrational brain convinced me that worrying more people and being in hysterics would somehow help. My sanity was lost on me in those moments, it seems.

McGonangall's words echoed in my mind. I did not care about the confidentiality of the matter in this moment. All of the Slytherins knew. In a matter of a few hours everyone would know anyway. This school would erupt in a new upheaval of rumours, as it always did. I did not understand the need to stay silent and I did not care. I _just_ didn't care. My life was unfair, everything about it was; then why should I be playing fair? Following every rule?

And so I ran. I broke every decorum related norm that had been drilled into me. In retrospect, when I'd look back at this day and moment, I knew my actions were irrational and made no sense whatsoever. But I wasn't in my senses in that moment. I was awake beyond comprehension. My mind was too restless to sleep. My body coped up with its absurdity. It seemed to have a mind of its own. If it couldn't sleep, it went to do the exact opposite. Over-exert.

My crying had taken a full on hysterical mode now, though no tears flowed. Sobs wrecked through my chest. My eyes burned and my feet continued to race forward. I ran down corridors. I ran as numerous portraits shushed me up. I ran up the stairs and then down them. I ran through the portrait hole as I cried out the password and I ran up the Seventh Year Boys Dormitory stairs.

My body eventually felt drained as a reached the last step, trembling from fear, exhaustion and lack of sleep. I used the last of my remaining energy to bang the door. I kept banging its surface even though it made my fist hurt. There was only one person I wanted to see right now. Only one person whose presence might calm me.

Finally, the door opened, I came face to face with Matt as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He looked onto me confusedly as I pushed past him into the dorm.

I stared around the crimson room for a while. He had emerged from his four poster, the hangings left open, perched beside a bed post, legs thrown over the edge, the bare muscles in his torso tense in the dim light of the moon, gaze penetrating me through and through. I saw his vision cloud with worry and concern, palms balled into fists by his sides as his eyebrows furrowed over his intense stare. I allowed myself to lock eyes with him for only a moment. One gaze. One gaze is all it took from Potter for me to break down all over. One gaze that gave me hope and made me vulnerable. One look and my walls were infiltrated. A new burst of strength pulsed through me.

'Mike? Charlie?' I cried out. I wanted one of them to appear in front of me. Potter's head moved away as he began staring at a wall. Resignation finding its way again; buried underneath the hurt and disappointment. He remained unaware of how he had already healed a part of me. Seeing him had done that.

Everyone in the dorm seemed to have been woken up by my banging, six boys staring intently at me, some in horror, some in petrifying confusion and worry and one refusing to move his eyes from the ceiling mouldings. Is this too bad a time to point out that one way or another I was terrifying them all? I'm sure I'm making a couple of my family members happy in hell.

I saw Charlie first, standing beside his bed, his expression worrisome. Then Mike was beside me too, his hand on my shoulder. I wanted them to tell me what I knew James could not, because I could never ask him. I wanted them to tell me it will be alright. Tell me he will be fine. I looked from Mike to Charlie, I was still trying to catch my breath from all the running I had done. I turned towards Mike and stepped closer to him, I realised I could no longer stand up, it hit me how much the night really had drained me, my body wanted to rest now even though my mind was wide awake.

A frustrated scream escaped my lips as Mike's arms supported me and held me upright. My hands were balled into fists as I clutched Mike's shirt for support. The dull pain inside my chest had now become a thunderous pounding, I could no longer breathe properly. I was hyperventilating, my throat felt scratchy and my eyes dry. The tears were long gone, leaving a void behind.

'Isabella? Liz, what's wrong?' Mike held me at arm's length. 'Where are you hurt? What happened? Who did this?'

I shook my head as I looked down at my clothes. I was still wearing my uniform; the white fabric crumpled and streaked with mud and blood; Ed's blood. Every occupant in the room had their eyes fixed at me. Waiting for me to answer.

'It's not mine.' I managed to say finally, my voice was still heavy from all the crying I had done. 'It's not my blood.' I explained. A slight frown graced Mike's face.

'It's Ed's. He.. was.. He was... down... at.. at the pitch... in... in a pool of... of his own blood.' I managed to tell Mike as my voice came out muffled against his chest.

Mike held me against himself, in fear that my legs would buckle and make me fall if he let go. He escorted me out of the dorm, followed by Charlie. We went down to the common room. I saw the first rays of light start to enter it. He placed me at the sofa, waiting for an explanation as to what had happened. I told them everything.

They both sat by me as I continued staring into space ahead. My eyes felt heavy and itchy from all the crying, my cheeks must have had dried tear strains along them, my throat felt scratchy so I refrained from saying anything. I stayed numbingly still. I stayed still until Charlie started pacing around, until my body began to shiver and until Mike came back down to the common room and wrapped me in a blanket.

I stayed the same until my body caught up to its fatigued state once again and I fell asleep.

* * *

'Add the Sopophorous bean's juice now. And stir counter clockwise. Eight times.'

I numbingly followed the instructions given out to me by Emilia Heart and began stirring the potion mechanically.

This was my last class of the day. And each class during the day had brought me closer and closer to having a breakdown. Each time I had fought back tears as they threatened to spill out, masking my inner turmoil by a false display of indifference. Each time, I'd collected myself before returning back to worrying. The day had seemed to drag on ever since I had left Edward in the hospital wing, ever since McGonagall had confirmed the horrifying truth behind his accident.

I had been called in by the headmistress herself during my Herbology lesson. She asked for my memory from the night of the incident. I had placed my wand against my temple and retracted the memory into a vial for her.

Hesitantly, I asked her why she needed it. She considered my words gravely before answering.

'We have reasons to believe that Mr. Lowell was under the Imperius curse when the accident happened.'

I could only stare at the headmistress in return. An Unforgivable. That was the level they had chosen to stoop down to. The target had been miscalculated. The arrow had missed its aim, though it baffled me why. Why make Ed a pawn in this sick game of theirs? Why use him for cover? Why harm him? To the extent that would cost him his life? But I had to feign disbelief, act baffled to find the truth and confirm my previous doubts.

'Why would someone cast the Imperius curse on Edward?'

'It appears that the attack wasn't meant for Mr. Lowell. The broom we found next to him had the initials J.S.P marked onto them, the broom we believe he was flying on when he fell; the broom that was cursed to make him fall.'

 _I treaded through the pitch, the air was cold today, the chilly weather of the October wind was settling in._

 _'Why are we here James?'_

 _I asked as he came out of the Gryffindor locker room. He held two brooms, one in each hand._

 _'Remember when you told me how you weren't good at flying.' I nodded._

 _'Well. I am about to give you your first lesson.'_

 _James tossed one of the brooms in my direction, the shabbier one. I missed it and it fell to the ground. My attention was on James broom as I picked it back up._

 _'How come you get the fancier broom?'_ My aunt's upbringing had not fully worn off till then.

 _'Because it's mine.'_

 _'Says who?'_ Yes, twelve year old I didn't have the soundest of arguments.

 _'Says me. It has my name on it. See?'_

 _James pushed the handle of the broom under my nose for examination. My eyes caught the engraving in the wood. A simple, crisp italic font._

 _'J.S.P?' I asked._

 _' Yeah. James Sirius Potter. Mum has her initials on her broom too.'_

 _'Wow.' Dumbstruck, I ran a finger over the expertly polished wood._

 _'You can practice on mine once you learn.'_

I blinked as I reminisced about my first flying lesson with him.

Many had joked about my importance in his life. He cared enough to share his broom, I remember how the thought had warmed my heart back then as well.

J.S.P.

I had to find Amalthea.

* * *

I had patiently been waiting for the moment I'd find her alone. My anger was bubbling like lava inside me, hot and boiling, ready to burst.

So naturally, my wand was pointed right at her as I spotted her alone in a deserted corridor, dismissing a third year, watching the boy leave. Her back was turned towards me; I lingered around the corner until sure that the third year was out of earshot, for that's when I lost it all.

'Amalthea!' I screamed.

I waited for her to turn before I threw a hex. I do not attack behind one's back. I revenge head first. She stepped out of the way, dodging it easily. I threw another spell her way, she stepped away again, taking out her wand and pointing it in my direction, similar to how mine was pointed at her.

'What the fuck, Lestrange?' She questioned, irritated.

'You said you'd keep him safe!' I screamed back, sending another hex her way, she deflected it with her wand. 'You said it was the only way to keep him safe! Yet, the attack happened and Ed suffered!' I was bellowing now, 'I TRUSTED YOU.'

'That was before Goyle saw you chatting with Potter by the edge of the lake that night.'

Her eyes were cold, I deflated at her words.

'I tried Isabella. Even I didn't know he saw you two then.'

I lowered my wand, Amalthea did the same.

'I'm sorry.'

'How?' I took a pause, gathering myself. 'How did it happen? What exactly happened?'

'He threatened a third year to cast the Imperius. And then obliviated him and broke his wand, replacing it with another identical to it. All proof has been erased. The third year though was able to cast the curse, preyed on the wrong victim. James Potter had already left the pitch when Edward and Albus came. The third year confused the boys with one another; thought Albus was James, but still aimed wrong and cast the spell on Edward instead.'

'What about this third year?'

'I talked to him; the poor thing does not remember a word of what he had done. He's a loner; naturally, he had no friends that would have come looking for him.'

I numbingly nodded, processing all the information. A thirteen year old had almost committed murder, unknowingly, all for a petty rivalry he wasn't even aware of.

'Now what?'

'Now everyone thinks I'm protecting yours and Potter's secret relationship.' Amalthea hissed.

'What?' I asked baffled. I wasn't expecting this one.

'They saw me with you two by the lake, remember?'

'Fuck.' I wanted to pull my hair out and scream in frustration.

'Exaclty. Fuck.' Amalthea concurred.

 **A/N: Woah! Was that too intense a first chapter? I know I added a lot into one but I wanted to establish my plot, or I'm hoping I did. How about you let me know in the review section? :D**


	2. Chapter 2: Dream Another Dream

_**A/N: Hello readers. Welcome back! To avoid any confusion, this chapter is two days before the attack of Edward Lowell in the Quidditch Pitch. This chapter acts as a filler to the events that will lead up to the attack.**_

 _ **The attack happens as the first week back to school comes to an end, making it the first weekend of the term. I really hope you guys enjoy it and that I clarified any confusion about the timeline.**_

 ** _2 days ago..._**

 **James POV**

I had to push all thoughts of a certain raven haired girl out of my mind.

I HAD to.

There was no other way around it. You see, the more I looked at her, the deeper I fell; into a pitch that I could only descend into, not climb out of. She had me captivated; with every movement of her body, with every word she spoke, the sway of her hips, the black waves that cascaded down her back. Merlin, I wanted her.

Images of her from a certain morning stayed imprinted in my head. For the first time ever since Izzy had become Isabellal Lestrange for me, I saw her in a dishevelled state. Her appearance was uncanny and unfamiliar for her pureblood status; out of place. Her ancestors would be turning in their graves. Her aunt who took pride in raising her 'right' would make hell break loose. She looked so gloriously beautiful in her plain clothes and tousled hair. I had never seen her like this before. Her clothes had always been perfectly tailored to compliment her body and pose her stature in all its ostentation, yet I preferred her the way I saw her that morning, free-spirited; assertive, the way I remembered her.

It's how I imagined her to wake up next to me.

Her skin; so smooth and creamy, as the hem of her cotton shorts brushed against it, was spotless and pale, one might think twice before reaching out and touching it; afraid they might taint its perfection. Her hair was pulled away from her face into a messy bun, stray strands escaping from the tie, as they blew in the wind and occasionally into her face, caressing her red mouth rarely.

Her lips. Merlin. Her lips. Cherry red against her pale skin; plump and full; teasing me. I longed to trace the outline of it with my thumb; to touch and appreciate every time her lips would move to insult me, insinuate me. I loved riling her up, watching her smirk, waiting for her wit to find its way through the crowd to address me; her anger would feed the spitefulness and I'd find this a challenge to rise above.

Maybe I was a masochist, for I stayed deeply rooted in the pitch I'd fallen into, not climbing out, only fuelling the sparks of quarrel from where I was trapped.

At least this way I got a reaction out of her. It was the only reaction I got out of her.

That is why I had to do what I had to do. I pushed the blonde further into the bookshelf, pressing my chest harder against hers. My hands roamed her body, tracing her soft curves, her skin hot against my fingertips; the thin fabric of our shirts the only barrier between us. My tongue battled against her, she pulled hard on the roots of my hair and one of her legs curled up around my waist holding us together firmly in place. I heard her moan into my mouth.

My tasks for detention had been shuffling around, from the hospital wing, to the potions classrooms, to the library, which is where I currently was. It had been a week since the Saturday we had hexed the Slytherins. Those slimy bastards had decided to fly around the pitch the first day back. I though back fondly at the memory.

A week later now, it was a Saturday again. Today the detention was at the library. That's where Sarah or Sandy or whatever her name was had been waiting on me to monitor my tasks. The books that had to be placed back lay ignored as I snogged the living daylights out of said Blonde.

However, my thoughts kept reverting to one particular raven haired girl. Izzy had meant so much to me, once. She was my best friend, my partner in crime, I'd grown to fancy the pants off of her. Now, she was the girl whose favourite hobby was to be repelled by me. Any and every interaction we had now consisted of staccato conversations, sarcastic remarks, and cold gazes, a magnetism allowing us to stay attached, if not by affection, then by provocation. It was my way of getting back at her; give her relentless attention, embarrass her, force her to react.

Suddenly, I became very aware of who clouded my mind and who was pressing feather kisses upon my neck. Like a knee jerk reaction, I stepped away (a dick-ish move, I'm aware) from the girl whose throat I had my tongue shoved down. Her lips were swollen, she heaved breathlessly. Her blue eyes were dark with lust as they stared back into mine. Not the steel grey eyes I anticipated. I turned away from her wordlessly. You see, that's what my problem was, I couldn't escape her, even if I tried.

I had myself convinced that I liked the sound of Bad-Boy Potter more than First-Born Potter. Being under the microscope of the entire British Wizarding Society meant I had ample attention, still do. I used that as an excuse of keep giving people more things to talk about. More girls to fuck, more hearts to break, more damsels to rescue, more prejudices to fight, more people to hex, more reasons to cause mayhem. The press were always looking at things to dig up with my father and I, I kept feeding their needs.

She seemed like evasion in the entire equation. The first time she had talked to me was to condemn my prank. No one wanted to be her friend. Her cronies followed her around, so did mine. And hiding away one day in a broom closet avoiding spies and fans is how we became friends.

My attraction to her was bordering onto obsession now. It drove me over the edge how unattainable she was when once she had been more than within my reach. Every time I'd use my man whorish way to distract myself, to push thoughts of her out of my head. But nothing worked; no amount of pre-occupation could vacate my mind from her. Matt joked she was secretly drugging me with Amortentia, Fred claimed it was because she was perhaps the only one I hadn't touched.

But that's where they misunderstood. I did not want to just fuck her. I mean, partially yes, I wanted to, but that was not it. There was more. I had known her like the back of my hand once, but soon learned the two dimensionality of it. She was an unsolved puzzle, always poised and poignant. Yet I had seen traits of her that defied the perfections. Just as now.

As I had exited the library I had left behind a confused pick-me-up at the end of the day, my thoughts had made me lose track of time and now it was past curfew. I had been wandering the halls idly; I started to notice the lessening of people around the castle. In the later hours of the night, with aid of the map I was navigating myself through the castle to avoid being caught. I did not have the cloak, Albus had borrowed it.

It was then, as I folded and unfolded the map to check my route that I found her dot, out of bed, breaking the rules. I'd repeatedly found her out of bed during the past seven days, wandering the castle, aimlessly or not, I never knew.

I never knew what went on in her head, there was a reason she was the mastermind of our pranks.

My feet pulled me to the where she was, my mind acted robotic to her association. There was no right or wrong, there was only one way, one path; that always led me to her. To admire or affront, I hadn't decided yet.

Amidst a cluster, I found her perched on a rock, observing the still waves of the Black Lake. The moon was glistening behind the clouds, dimly illuminating the surroundings. I could make out her form perfectly though, she was wearing those shorts again, and a tank top that didn't leave much to imagination, the curve of her back was obscured by her robe, that hung carelessly around her shoulders, dangling over her arms. Her hair fell in waves around her body. I saw something pressed between her fingers; ignited, puffs of smoke escaping her mouth, confirmed my assumptions.

I leaned against a nearby tree lazily. Crossed my arms over my chest, smirk in place.

Let the games begin.

* * *

 **Isobel's POV**

It was the same dream.

Again.

And again.

 _And again._

The same dream, the same sequence of events, the same penetration of light and the same feeling of fear and asphyxiation.

Every time, I'd wake up gasping for air, taking moments to orient myself, until the warmth of my bed would return me to my surroundings; my mind would remain hazed and take time to clear up.

 _Always._

I was covered in sweat; my cheeks felt flushed, the sweat made my hair stick to my forehead and neck. I pushed the covers off from my body and treaded into the bathroom, splashing my face with water; beads of it trickled down my face instantly cooling my skin, leaving goose bumps in its wake.

I stared in the mirror, my appearance horrified me. Suddenly, I couldn't breathe again, I felt claustrophobic as flashes of my dream came back to haunt me. The bathroom walls started to grow in on me, the space felt smaller and smaller with every second. I escaped the bathroom, grabbed by robe and my wand off my bed stand and walked out of the head's dorm.

I had had recurring dreams before, but this one particular dream seemed to have been progressing as time passed by, I'd feel more emotionally attached every time. It was the same sequence of events that kept replaying themselves for the past week now.

 _A ray of light._

 _A_ single _ray of light._

 _A prisoner._

 _Materialising as you stared at the blinding light._

 _Bound in shackles, shrivelled and fragile._

 _Broken._

 _Stepping out to meet your gaze._

 _The hazel orbs I'd look into would appear more and more dead every time._

 _A hollow laughter would resonate in the vicinity._

 _Then a scream would fill the air._

For a long time, I'd only seen a ray of light and a silhouette of a figure. The figure had started materialising recently. For a week, each night, the figure materialised.

Each night I'd wake up drenched in sweat, fighting to breath back normally.

Each night, I'd try to escape my room, leave my dorm and wander aimlessly.

I pulled my robe around my body tightly as another wave of goose bumps came over my skin, the dream would always leave me shivering, cold. I dragged my feet to wherever they took me. Though being under scrutiny even at Hogwarts, I lived for these moments of false freedom. They gave a wisp of hope to hold onto. Once during this week I was left wandering the corridors, once I'd thought it wise to climb the stairs of the tower but tonight the high ceilings of the castle didn't dissolve the ever persistent claustrophobia. Deciding that the walls were still suffocating me, I stepped outdoors.

The still night air was cool once I was out in the open; I stuffed my numb hands into the pockets of my robes. My fingertips met another surface instead of the plush fabric. I pulled out the cigarette box, reading the label for lack of anything better to do. Much like a reflex action my feet dragged me to the edge of the lake, where I found a spot, my usual spot, comfortable enough to observe the night from.

I lighted the cigarette with my wand, inhaling the scent of tobacco, till it hit my throat and filled my lungs. I closed my eyes, savouring the moment, enjoying my isolation. When you're left alone in a manor for more or less ninety days of warm summer afternoons and still nights, you do tend to pick up one or two bad habits, the walls do grow in on you. You will need an escape. When every move is monitored to perfection, you will rebel against it, on your own terms, in whichever way possible.

One after another, I kept lighting the cigarettes in the box, until I had had three. By the fourth one, my mind started to feel clearer, my nerves felt calmer and ironically, my breathing came out steadier too, until a voice seeped through the still summer air, jolting me back to reality, out of my trans and quickening my heartbeat as always.

It didn't particularly help that this voice was the same one I had heard scream not long ago in my dream.

'It's not really healthy, you know.'

I heard the soles of his feet pad against the ground as he pushed his way towards me. He settled down beside me on the cluster of rock that I was seated amongst. I felt warmth radiate off of him as he got within close proximity, I stayed firmly where I was.

'I thought you no longer broke rules.' He said again, encouraging me to converse.

'Old habits die hard.' I supplied curtly. I could imagine his posture; hear the smirk in his voice, but I refused to turn to him and spare him a glance. As much as I had wanted to, I did not.

He was witnessing me again in my dishevelled state, twice since the year had begun. My mask was off in these moments, I wasn't what the world expected me to be. I wasn't Isobel Lestrange, I was just Isobel, strongly opinionated and free spirited, a side of my personality I barely got to showcase.

'The new ones are more intriguing.' His gazed followed the cigarette.

I took two final drags before putting it out against the edge of the rock. I finally turned a little sideways to meet his gaze. I let my eyes wander over him for a while, drinking in his presence yet again, teasing him, provoking him. My eyes traced the arch of his eyebrows, thick and dark, the flush in his cheeks, the depth of his caramel eyes, the fullness of his lips and the nape of his neck. The top bottoms of his shirt were undone.

'You're one to talk for new habits.' I commented, referring to his disarrayed clothing, I assumed he was out on one of his late night shenanigans. My assumption seemed to have hit the mark; something in his eyes changed. Maybe my assumption wasn't much of an assumption, but something else.

'Jealous?'

Yes.

'Only in your dreams.' I replied in a dead tone. My heart was beating furiously in my chest however.

'I did have a dream. It involved you, me and a few compromising positions.'

My cheeks flushed as James words registered in my head. I hoped the dark of the night obscured this from his vision. I quickly looked away and stared ahead at the still water.

'Dream another dream, Potter.'

I pushed myself off the rock, my head felt mushy as I couldn't think straight. James words had left butterflies in my abdomen. My body was tingling with warmth. I needed to distant myself from him immediately.

James grabbed my wrist as I stood up to turn away from him.

'Something's wrong.'

There was no doubt in his voice, only affirmation. I suddenly felt vulnerable and weak.

'Yes. With your head.' I supplied wrenching my wrist out of his grasp.

'Lestrange! Potter!' A third voice filled the air. Our heads turned at the intrusion. Amalthea Yaxley stood a few feet away from us.

'Potter, return to your dorm before I can deduct points off of Gryffindor.'

Potter seemed to be torn, he opened his mouth to say something, turned to me, then to Amalthea and then to me again. He decided against whatever was on his tongue, clenched and unclenched his fists, and then returned back towards the castle grudgingly.

Amalthea waited until James was out of earshot, she closed the distance between us; her voice came out in a harsh whisper.

'Are you out of your mind?'

She clutched my arm fiercely, her nails dug into my flesh. I wanted to wince in pain but refrained myself.

'What if someone else had found you? What if Goyle had come down? Or Nott had? You'd be ripped apart limb by limb, after they had tortured the life out of _HIM_ right in front of your eyes.'

This time I openly winced at her words. The dream came back to haunt me again.

'Go. Go back to your dorm. And don't ever forget what I told you. This is the only way to keep Potter safe.'

Her warning resonated in my brain again, echoing around my skull. My head felt light again, buzzing. I obliged Amalthea's orders as she escorted me back to my dorm.

* * *

'But I don't want one.'

'You kind of don't have a choice.'

'Urghh.'

I saw as Rose grew more and more frustrated; she rested her head down on her arms, onto the dinner table and ignored the others. Scorpious who sat next to her, stroked her red locks affectionately as consolation.

'Why can't we use it for James birthday? It's just next month.' Rose said looking up brightly.

She gestured wildly with her hands, like she'd just come up with the brightest idea of the century; a little low for her I believe. I assumed she was referring to the alcohol the boys had stacked up for the term.

'Already got that covered.' Albus supplied.

'Quidditch parties?'

'Done.'

'Halloween?'

'All done.'

'Christmas?'

'Check.'

'Urgh.' Rose gave up again and resumed her position with her head at the table. 'Fine. Have it your way, cancel the big plans, we do a nice small party only with people I know or I start spilling secrets.' She looked around the table sternly.

Her eyes landed on her first prey. Albus Potter.

'Want me to recount the rollerblade incident?' She challenged.

'Sure. I'll just recount Christmas winter 2020.'

Cue Potter and Weasley staring match.

'We do this party my way or we aren't doing it.' She threatened in return. Rose was now becoming Red Rose (affectionately called so by her family and friends every time she got angry and her face flushed and the tips of her ears burned)

'Rose, love. It won't be so bad.' Scorpious smiled feebly at her, approaching her like one would approach an angry hippogriff. Hey! I used to approach Red James like that. Full points, cousin.

Rose raised her head only to give him a fierce look in return which made Scorpious coil back towards his own dinner. Everyone else followed suit as well.

I silently took my seat next to Edward and the rest of the Slytherins, plus Dom and Rose. I saw that Mike was here too, seated by Dom who sat next to Rose and Scorpious. Ed, I and Albus sat across them. I poured myself some juice, sipping on it thoughtfully. Dom's hand brushed next to Mike's as she dished out some treacle tart into her plate, Dom withdrew it as if she'd caught fire. There was an exchange of glances around the table as this happened. I noticed Mike remained poised like me, giving away no offence or disgust or _anything_. Dom cleared her throat before saying.

'Rose, we have this party planned since before school started. We can't cancel it now.'

'Party?' I questioned.

'Rose's birthday is next week.' Scorpious gave me a reprimanding look for not remembering.

'Oh.' I replied lamely.

'Fine. Then I'm not showing up. You all can enjoy it.' With that Rose rose from her seat and walked off.

Scorpious let out a frustrated sigh and followed after her. I pressed my fingers against my temples as they throbbed with pain. My recurring dreams meant less and less sleep for me. I tried to push it out of my mind and decided to comment on the current situation.

'I'm with Rose on this. Why is it such a big deal?'

'Why is it such a big deal?' Dom repeated incredulously. 'What world are you living in? She's a Weasley. These things are expected.'

'Do we have to do all that is expected?'

'Doesn't matter. We've made the arrangements, given out the invites. Too much effort will go to waste.'

Dom's voice was laced with irritation and impatience. Her eyes looked tired and her posture too tense. I briefly wondered how damaged could her and Matt's relationship become after one stolen kiss? Could trust amongst two people who cared for each other as much them be broken this easily? I, myself, was perhaps as monogamous as it could get, minus the pretences Mike and I had put up with. _Arranged marriages and what not._ But even those involved us being at the best of our behaviour regarding social decorum and public acceptability. Though just yesterday when I had asked she'd said they were getting better, maybe it was just Rose who had her annoyed. Dom does love her parties.

Silently, Dom too rose from the table and left in a similar fashion to her cousin. Albus only shrugged in response before returning to his dinner, he had not said a word this entire time. Mike too silently rose from his seat and left after passing Ed and I a smile.

I turned to Ed, we hadn't talked all day being preoccupied with classes and all. Suddenly I became very conscious of Albus's presence at the table. The silence around us had changed from comfortable to extremely awkward. Albus got up from his seat to leave not before telling Edward he'd meet him at the pitch to discuss tryouts. Albus was rooting to be Captain next year after Edward, he was Slytherin's star player.

'So, what's new Eddy boy?' I asked in a fake bright tone.

'Small talk does not suit you. Please refrain to only insulting people.'

I huffed in response. My cynicism was starting to really rub onto all my friends.

'I have hardly had time to spend with you since classes begun, even though we share a dorm.' I replied guiltily.

Edward gave me a warm smile in response. 'I know. You don't have to explain things to me.'

I half-heartedly smiled in return.

'No, seriously. What's new? Do you need help with any of your homework? You have tryouts soon, right? Any help there?'

'You? Help me with tryouts?'

I gave my most believable nod in return.

'Quidditch tryouts?'

I nodded again.

'As in broomsticks and muddy grounds and sweaty players?' Ed began laughing as he finished the last sentence.

'Urgh. Fine. I was only trying to help.'

Ed laughed openly at my feeble attempts now. 'Stop feeling guilty.'

I looked down at my dinner for lack of anything better to do.

'But I've missed you too. And I have to tell you some stuff. Remember Hannah, the now sixth year Rawenclaw I told you about in the summer, from my birthday?'

'Yesss?' I prompted Ed to continue, I saw his eyes sparkle.

'It's about her.'

'What about her?' I asked as excitedly as my stupid manner training allowed. The deadness of emotion had been so well drilled into me that I could let it out even when I wanted to.

'She may have said yes when I asked her out for Rose's birthday party.'

I gave Ed a brief smile. I had seen this a long time coming.

I squeezed Ed's hand affectionately. He had liked Hannah for so long now. Ed laughed at my much more feeble attempts at showing true emotion. This was worse than the try-out thing.

'I'm really happy for you.' I hardly needed to state that, Ed knew how deep my passivity ran. Inside, I was bubbling with excitement, I truly was, despite not showing it. My day had been tiring and gloomy; this had put me in a much better mood.

'Tell me everything.' I demanded.

'Later. Tonight though. I have to meet Albus right now.'

Ed pushed himself off his seat and I turned ahead again, suddenly feeling James gaze on me from across the hall and making eye contact briefly. I could not decipher his expression so I chose to look down at my dinner instead.

'I'll be back in an hour.' Ed continued. 'And I'll tell you about the offer I got from the Chudley Cannons then too.'

'The what from who?' My eyes may as well as popped out of her sockets. Maybe I wasn't fully made of stone.

Ed only grinned in response and left the table with a kiss to my forehead.

After completing my patrolling duties, I returned to the dorm. Then, I waited for Ed to return. I prepared tea as I waited. I lay down on the sofa of our common room while I waited. I do not know when I fell asleep there or what time it was when I woke up but it was still dark outside. I checked Ed's room, it remained untouched. The bed was still made, empty; there was no sign of a change of clothes or any human activity whatsoever.

That's when I started to freak out. _Where was Edward?_


	3. Chapter 3: Manipulation

_You want to visit him?_

The words appeared in front of me onto the parchment I was staring blankly at. As soon as my eyes had read the words, they disappeared. I blinked twice, sat up straighter from my previous position that had me slouching a little in my seat; trying to decide whether I had imagined the scribbling or did it really vanish from the surface of my parchment. But I had recognised the writing, I knew it well. I looked up as I felt someone's relentless gaze upon myself, and sure enough, Michael was looking my way from two benches ahead.

I sat beside Madeline Crabbe, out of the corner of my eye I saw her still engrossed in reading the assigned text, occasionally scribbling onto her own piece of parchment. Now sure that she wasn't paying me any attention, I picked up my quill, the text about veritaserum disregarded as I replied to his message.

 _Yes._

I saw the ink seep in and disappear, much like it had just seconds ago.

 _Okay. I'll tell father you wish to visit him too._

I appreciated the effort, but Mike seemed to have missed out on a very obvious, teeny tiny detail.

 _I need permission from a parent or a guardian, I can't leave premises whenever I desire._

 _You leave that to me._

The final words appeared in front of my eyes, affirmative. Leave it to the Kanes to bend around a few rules whenever they wished to.

'Mhmm.'

The sound of a throat clearing forced me to look up from the parchment. Even when I was immersed in my thoughts; I knew my face gave nothing away; a skill I had mastered long ago.

I looked up as I saw Professor Huckleberry staring at me, her lips pulled into a thin line. She picked up the parchment placed in front of me and tapped her wand to it. It only produced a spark and a loud bang. The resulting ashes were now what covered her face and hair. A few students sniggered in response, I kept my face completely straight.

'Explain?' she demanded.

'This doesn't belong to me. This is obviously a product from the Weasley joke shop.' I wrinkled my nose to keep up the act. 'I clearly have nothing to do with it.'

'And it just happened to be at your desk?'

'Landed a few seconds before you approached me.' I stated, in a matter of a factly voice.

Professor eyed me wearily for a while until she turned away, clutching the parchment in her fist.

'Who does this belong to?' She asked the class. Given how no one wanted to be put in detention, as no one was guilty; no one responded. Her keen gaze kept scanning each pupil to find a weak link.

'Fine, have it your way then. A 4-foot long essay debating the legalisation of veritaserum by next class.'

Collective groaning echoed around the walls of the class.

The bell finally rang and I motioned to collect my books as I climbed off my bench. Everyone else started to file out of the room too. I followed suit. As I exited I fell in step with Michael and Charlie. They had seemed to have taken over as my personal guards as of late, my last breakdown had put them both over the edge, one would constantly be found by my side.

'I don't know how you'll manage it.' I told Michael as the three of us continued our way down the corridor.

'You have no idea what I had to do to get permission for Hogsmeade visits.' I internally shuddered as I recalled the memory. My father and his twisted machinations always seemed to exceed my expectations. In the end, I had to forge his signature onto my permission slip. I'm pretty sure that McGonagall knew I faked it. She probably hasn't ever said anything because she feels sorry for me. Because who wouldn't. I'm a walking definition of rich girl with daddy issues.

My mind was still buzzing with the knowledge that the attack on Ed was meant for James. That someone related to me in one way or another was already out to harm him, that the manipulations had already been set into action. It was all I could think of. Michael threw his arm casually around my shoulders, squeezing it a little as consolation. This was uncharacteristically odd of him; nothing about him was ever casual, especially not in public for everyone to see.

Things really are different this year at Hogwarts.

* * *

'Is that...?'

I trailed off, staring at the inanimate object before me. Today was a Tuesday, following the Saturday night (Sunday morning?) of Ed's Accident, which meant we both had second period free. After leaving the advanced potions classroom Mike had dragged me here, in the midst of thick foliage and damp grounds.

'A portkey? Yes.' Mike confirmed any suspicion that may have been swimming around in my head.

'But...' I tried voicing my jumbled thoughts.

'How did you...' _Attempt number two_

'When did you even...' _Attempt number three._

I licked my lips, shaking my head to and fro, jerking my brain for coherency.

'How?' _Monosyllabic it shall be,_ I thought. This was all I could muster up as I stared at the tiny coin placed at the soft gravel under our feet. It shone occasionally in the morning sun, its shiny surface glaring out at me to grab it, making my hands itch.

'Because I'm Michel Kane.' He offered as a way of explanation.

Perhaps I ought to explain who the Kanes were.

The Kane's were my only connection to my mother apart from my father of course, who had never wished to share ANY information. Julieanne Kane was my mother's best friend since their school days. And Christopher Kane was my father's. My mother, Arianna Knight, was also an only child, as am I. She became an orphan in the second wizarding war, consequently meeting and marrying my father, moving out into Norway with him. The old Lestrange manor lay abandoned somewhere, the actual building apparently destroyed. Our home –the new manor- was built inside the wilderness where most of my grandparent's assets had been hidden after being taken out of the Gringotts vault and the old manor. The move of artifacts had been undertaken by my father himself apparently. In search of an escape from the trauma of the war was what made my father meet my mother (the notion highly ironic as my father was still fixated upon ideas of blood purities and superiorities). But who and what my mother was is another story. For another time.

Back to Michael.

As far as I am concerned, my father met his one and only true love-a concept now alien to him at least wherever I am concerned-because of Michael's parents. They symbolize one of the oldest and purest bloodlines for as back as history is dated. The Kane's lived in Norway and being typical purebloods sent their darling son to Dumbstrang, until this year, when Christopher decided to move out here for some business. And naturally the family moved with him, or so they said, because the move didn't make much sense to me. They had everything in Norway, their whole life. Why move for a year or so? Michael and Julianne could surely survive for a while without Christopher's constant presence, it's not like he was always home with his family, Christopher would often be away at business trips, plus, they could fly out here in Britain. Merlin knows they have enough money to feed it to the rats. Not that there are any at the Kane mansion, that is only a metaphor.

Christopher Kane was a name well known to everyone in the wizarding world, be it the young or elderly. The Kanes were perhaps the most popular, followed after the Potters. And that was saying something in itself, for they were not war heroes or villains, they had stayed neutral through the wars, which often made me ambiguous about father tolerating them. Maybe it was because the two had come such a long way; they had known each other for at least 30 years now, more or less, ever since their Drumstrang days. The family now owned a chain of casinos and hotels (Kane Hotel) worldwide, Australia, Greece, France, Spain, America, and so many more places that I could be familiar with, you name it, you had it. It's one of the reasons why the Kane's went on vacation to all these exotic locations, wizard and muggle, which basically explains why Michael's formally pale skin is now coloring a tan.

Born on the 16th of March in Scotland, son to Christopher and Julianne Kane, Michael is the solitary heir to the Kane Dynasty. He was, in one way or another, a childhood friend. We'd spent our fair share of summers together; Julie would often come and take Martha (our housekeeper) and I with her to whatever vacation resort the family was planning to go to or even to spend time at the Manor. Visits were significantly common in the holidays, usually the summer. Father's participation in these activities was highly dependent on his mood. Sometimes he'd come with us, sometimes Christopher and him would go off for one of their 'deals', one could never know. But I remember the summers I spent playing in the Kane courtyard and the ones where Michael and I would climb the trees of mine, I remember Juileanne taking our pictures, filling album after another. Before joining Hogwarts they were as close to a family as I could ever have.

But that changed dramatically when I went to Hogwarts and Michael to Dumbstrang. We spend less and less time together, usually only in the summer breaks.

Ever since my first Christmas back home after starting at Hogwarts, I decided to never come back. Father was angry with my house selection, surely it should have cooled down in a period of more than four months? But no. I was at the receiving end of the treatment that once the deceased Sirius Black is rumored to have experienced when he was in similar circumstances. Had it not been for Martha and her generosity, I would have never been able to come back home. She's convinced that I don't remember a thing from that day, though it's quite the opposite, I remember each and every single detail. What I said, what he screamed, what Martha did. Everything. But let's never tell her that, it would bring back nothing but pain.

I could not abide by my promise, I did go back in second year, I was too young and too disturbed. I wanted to never come out of my room, Martha stayed there with me, but one day took me out and we made a snowman. The Kanes did not come over, though Juliaenne did send her present.

So as the years proceeded the Kanes' visits weren't frequent enough, though Juileanne was consistent in sending her presents. Micheal and I would write to each other, but it wasn't the same as the summer we'd spend catching up.

Michael was a pureblood at its best, in decorum and physical attributes. His fancy attire often made him look older than his years. And he was the one I was allegedly meant to marry one day. To unite two of the oldest, purest bloodlines in these times of Mudblood prejudices (my aunt's words, not mine) as a portrayal of power and superiority.

I wrapped my arms tighter around my chest; despite the fact that the summer days were still warm and bright, I felt a shiver crawl down my spine. The sun was immersed in the sky behind the massive trees of the Forbidden Forest, the gravel crunched under our feet as we had strolled to the place where we now stood; where the portkey had been. I knew without a doubt that Michael had called in favours and pulled around a few strings to have this moment happen, I knew without a doubt that this portkey was available at our disposal illegally.

Now the question remained how desperate was I to see Ed. I would be skiving classes on a whole new level if I agreed to leave the premises like this; there must be charms that were securing the castle and its periphery. I was all for breaking the rules like the dare devil I was, but never at the cost of getting caught. I have never gotten caught. Ever.

'Merlin Liz! We won't get caught!'

I stared disbelievingly at him as he answered my contemplations. He rolled his eyes, letting out a frustrated sigh.

'You're thinking too loud.' He explained. 'It's written all over your face.'

I couldn't help but compare Michael with Ed. While Ed would choose to let me drown in my own misery and be a sad sap, Mike would tell me to get my act together and knock sense into me. Edward was my breathing space, he let me go with my own flow of things; Michael liked to get things done at his own pace.

'You really want to see him, no? Come on Liz, now's your chance.'

The sound of his voice jerked me out of my monologue. My eyes came back to focus towards his palm as he held it out in front of me, the coin placed in it, waiting for me to grab it.

I uncrossed and crossed my arms again, trying to make a decision about what I wanted. The silence between us was unnatural as he awaited my answer. My curiosity was at play again, getting to the best of me.

'Fine.' I said finally. I let out a breath that I didn't realise I had been holding.

'But there's someone else who needs to see Ed more than I do. And we cannot go without them.'

I dragged Michael with me from the forest back to the castle. A few minutes later, he and I stood in a deserted corridor outside the Transfiguration classroom.

I spared a peek into the hall, just as Professor Wilderson turned from the front of the room.

'Are we spying?' Micheal whispered beside me. I shushed him with a wave of my hand.

Soon enough the bell rang, people started to file out of the room. Amongst the crowd, I tried to find her. I spotted a head of strawberry blonde hair instead, going the opposite way. I called out after it.

'Weasley?'

On cue, three heads turned at the sound of my voice, soon realising it was Dom I was addressing as I looked her way. Her hair flipped as she turned to dismiss a fellow Hufflepuff, eyes bright again as she walked towards us.

'Lestrange.' She gave Mike a nod.

'Is Wright in this class with you? I couldn't find her.'

'Who? Hannah?'

I nodded in response.

'No. But Rose might know better. She went that way.'

Sure enough I saw a head of bright red hair. I called after her, Michael hot on his heels behind me.

'Rose Weasley.' I said as I reached her.

'Merlin. How many of these are in here?' Mike muttered under his breath, only loud enough for me to hear. I chose to ignore him.

'Hi. Do you know where I might find Hannah? Hannah Wright?'

'Yes. I think she has Ancient Runes next.'

'Alright. Thank you.'

* * *

 _As told by James Potter._

She had disappeared again. To where, I had no clue. I last saw her in Potions, guarded by Kane and Malfoy once again. The two seemed to be attached to her at the hip by either side. Ever since Sunday morning, when she'd entered our dorm covered in blood, they seemed to be at her guard. At dinner and lunches; before, after and during classes today and yesterday, one or the other surely was found next to her. Another course of jealousy rang through my blood. _Obviously._

As the day grew to a close, I had seen Freddie walk out the classroom along with Emma Goldstein. I knew where Matt was off to, no questions asked there.

I rounded another corner, effectively wanting to lose the auror that had been following me around. Ever since Lowell's accident, security had been tight around the castle. The attempted murder had ensued more and more bullshit to go around the school. Now aurors dotted the corridors here and there. Matt wasn't particularly happy, it meant less sneak out time for him with my darling cousin.

The pitch was the worst. The changing room, the bleachers, the office; all were on guard. Due to some fucked up reason, the aurors seemed to be under the impression that if another attack may happen, it would happen at the pitch. Again.

I had gone for another fly, right after Defence, the summer air was cool; the aurors were fucking frustrating. The idea of being constantly watched by them put me more on the edge than relax me. Soon enough I had flown down and disbanded the idea altogether.

As soon as I had dismounted my broom and exited the stadium, an auror standing at the corner started following me. I wanted to punch a wall or him, whichever way I lost my patience first, but my morals got the best of me. I sped up a little, walking down one corridor after another, purposelessly twisting and turning at wrong turns in hopes of losing the fucker. This went on for half an hour, until I finally reached the bottom of the staircase to the Astronomy Tower. I took two steps at a time, exhilarated to have lost my personal guard. I really hated being Harry Potter's son sometimes.

I doubled over in laughter when I reached the top, gazing down the stairwell to check whether the idiot had figured out where I was or not, when suddenly a voice diverted my attention back to the opening of the Tower.

'It's funny. Isn't it?'

I turned around abruptly, quidditch reflexes taking over, trying to locate where the voice had come from, _I could not have been imagining it_.

And sure enough, there she was, seated on the floor of the tower, her uniform askew and wrinkled. Her sleeves unbuttoned and rolled up, her tie hung loose around her neck, her robes nowhere to be seen.

She stared ahead into the horizon and the fading sun, the sky tinted with oranges and purple. Her knees were tucked into her chin, she sighed quietly.

'When we are at Hogwarts, we tend to ignore the outside world. We only care about matters confined within these castle walls. Who's more fit? Who's dating who? The petty fights, grades, exams, quidditch matches.'

She paused as she gazed ahead; she pushed herself off the ground walking towards the railing.

'And the minute we step out, we realise what a silly dream this all has been. That this, this place is just purgatory and hell awaits us. That's when reality comes crashing in.' She said, walking towards me.

I drank in her presence once more, her eyes were bloodshot, and they seemed to be gazing far away somewhere behind me, until she reverted them back onto me.

'One moment. Just one moment is all it takes to change everything. Right?'

Tight-lipped and frozen I could only nod in response. Her gaze held me in place. A slight smiles forming at her lips, tugging at the corners and lifting them up a little. She reached up, her hand touching the side of my face ever so slightly. It was cold against my skin, yet it left a hot trail in its wake, I leaned into it a little.

'You're a good person James. Don't let anyone ever convince you otherwise. It'll be such a waste.'

And just like that she was gone. I stood dumbstruck, rooted where I had been for a while. Trying to make sense of what had happened. _Had I just imagined Isabella Lestrange talking me to, touching me? Had she just called me James?_ Reluctantly, I touched my cheek where her fingers had been, her scent was clouding my senses, lavender and strawberry. I turned towards the doorway, perplexed, wondering whether she had just exited through it or not. If I had thought Isabella had been a mystery first, she was much more right now.

 _ **A/N: So, what did you guys think? Isabella has been controlled by her father all her life and now Mike seems to be replacing him.**_

 _ **Who do you hate?**_

 _ **Who do you like?**_

 _ **Let me know.**_

 _ **Also, since I already have parts to the next chapter written, here's a sneak peak:**_

' _What? No insult? No demeaning remark? Am I growing onto you Lestrange?'_

 _I scoffed to show how absurd I found his comment, keeping up the charade._

' _So you're just going to ignore me then?' I felt him whisper next to my ear. I was very well aware of the alcohol on his breath; it mingled with the scent of his perfume and aftershave, the resultant fragrance clouding all my senses with heat._


	4. Chapter 4: Explanation

Hannah and I sat together in the library.

Both engrossed in our homework.

The day was drawing to an end. Dinner was soon to be served. Hannah had been working on a Herbology essay. Amalthea and Robert Greengrass had left our table after finishing their homework to go to the Great Hall.

I spared a glance at Hannah. With each passing moment I saw her grow impatient. Her eyes were fixated upon the book open in front of her, but weren't reading the text. She picked up her quill again, shuffling it between her fingers, kept it back down, rolled and unrolled her parchment. She ran her hand through her hair, until letting out a frustrated sigh and saying:

'Okay. I have to ask.'

'About time.' I snapped shut the book I was reading about advanced charms. I sat up straighter in my chair, giving her my full attention. I slightly raised my eyebrows as to prompt her to continue.

Hannah sighed, looked away and then met my eye.

'Were you and Edward ever a thing?'

I smirked a little at her. She briefly shut her eyes, as if ashamed to be saying the next sentence; her face turning crimson as she spoke.

'I mean, did you ever fancy him?', she asked uneasily. 'Did he fancy you? You two are awfully close. I can't seem to remember a time when you two weren't together. I mean I wouldn't be surprised if you two have dated in the past...'

'No.' I said simply, effectively cutting off her rambling.

'Oh.'

There was a pause. I leaned in a little.

'Never during this entire time then?'

'Never.' I reconfirmed.

She looked down onto her books again, contemplating what to say next.

'There's something else too?' I questioned.

'Not even last Christmas?'

'No Christmas ever.'

I smiled at her this time. I considered whether to tell her what I was about to say next or not, then decided to say it anyway.

'Hannah. Do you remember when you were a first year and you fell into the lake?'

'I don't think I'll ever forget that. I think eleven-year-old me still holds a grudge against Harris. Too bad that idiot's my friend now.'

We both smiled at the memory.

'Ed has liked you since that day.'

'What?' Hannah's eyes grew the size of saucers.

'I've been teasing him about it since then.'

'I didn't know that.'

'I don't expect you to Hannah. He's always been shy. I know the relationship feels new and uncertain, and Ed not being around definitely does not help with that, but, just hang in there. The healers said he'll wake up this week, remember. His bones are already healing.'

I offered her another friendly smile. Why does my face not hurt from all this consistent smiling?

'Yeah. I guess you're right. I just. I always thought that he looked at me as the nerdy Ravenclaw from the year below. I've liked him too, you know. For a while now. He's kind and caring. And smart. And that one time we kissed last year before the winter break, I think I've fancied him since then. And when he finally asked me out, he had a near to death experience. Then I start to think that maybe we aren't meant to be. I don't know...'

She trailed off, her eyes watery; she fidgeted with her fingers in her lap looking away.

'Don't think like that.'

'I don't want to go to Rose's birthday anymore. She won't be happy when I tell her that... ' She trailed off again. Until she looked at me with puppy dog eyes, the gesture oddly reminding me of Ed. _Did he teach her too?_ He'd gotten so much done with just that one innocent look. Hannah really was beautiful, bright green eyes, hair that fell in blonde waves around her like a halo against her equally pale skin. She tucked a stray strand behind her ear.

'Will you come with me?'

I studied her for a moment.

'No offence. But it's _your_ house party. You'll know everyone there.'

'I'd still want you to come with me. These past few days have been just too weird. No one understands that better than you.'

She had a point. The other day at lunch Rose and Susan, another Ravenclaw from their year, had said that Hannah had been acting a little strange lately. The accident had put everyone on edge, no doubt and the fact that the culprit was roaming around freely was no consolation either.

'Fine. But Mike's coming along too. We three can go together then. Where is the party anyway?'

'Room of requirements.'

* * *

And what a party it was.

Hannah and I had decided to meet outside her common room, along with Mike. She was wearing dark blue jeans and a drop shouldered, floral, pink top. I on the other hand was in much formal clothing. A full-sleeved black dress that stopped mid thigh, paired with black translucent stockings, ballet flats, some silver earnings and an heirloom ring. At least I wasn't the only one dressed like a pompous brat; Mike looked just as arrogant as me in his button down white shirt paired with black pants and dragon hide shoes, hair combed to look perfectly casual. To an onlooker, we surely did look like an ideal, teenage, pureblood couple; keeping up the pretences well.

As we entered, the ambience of the party took over all my senses. Loud music was drowning out any other noise, the air was filled with the sting of alcohol and cigarettes, flashing lights were blinding me every now and then. The room resembled the epitome of all things unhealthy about a teenage schooling experience.

Everyone was here. I saw Freddie behind the bar, serving drinks, performing tricks, his own pool of fan girls gathered around him. Next I spotted Matt with Dom, both on the dance floor. Charlie was there too, with a Hufflepuff I had a hard time remembering the name of. Rose and Scorpious stood a little sideways amongst a group of fellow sixth years. I even saw Amalthea, Robert, Madeline, Ivor and Henry standing in a corner; the Slytherins were here courtesy of Scorpious obviously.

'You made it!' I turned sideways at the sound of Susan Sanders who effectively dragged Hannah away with her the minute we entered.

'Let's get a drink.' Mike shouted into my ear over the music from beside me.

'I thought you'd never ask.'

We pushed through the crowd to make our way to the bar. Mike managed to get us both firewhiskies over the hurdle of girls standing by, a fair share ogling him too.

Just as he reached me pressing my drink into my hand, one of Freddie's fan girls crawled up to him, curling her fingers around his upper arm, tossing her hair over her shoulder flirtatiously. It was Jessica Hudson, a seventh year muggleborn Gryffindor who hated my guts. She recoiled a little under Mike's calculating gaze and cold smirk. He seemed to be having this effect on girls a lot. He could entice them and intimidate them both at the same time, capture them in a fleeting moment.

'Go for it.' I shouted into his ear, squeezing his arm a little. Mike smirked at me in return, he barely ever smiled. I turned away from him making my way towards the wall nearby where the sofas were placed. I perched myself on the arm of one of the sofa's, observing the scene before me. I saw Mike say something to Jessica; she looked away a little, ashamed was it?

'I knew you'd make it.'

The area around the sofas had been charmed to block out some of the music, I knew this because I could listen to other conversations happening around me. But deafening music or pin drop silence, I knew I'd recognise his voice anywhere; it always seemed to find me amongst the crowd, wherever I went. Though I had been searching for him too, the minute I had stepped into this room. I only sipped on my drink in response.

Isabella -0, James-1

'What? No insult? No demeaning remark? Am I growing onto you Lestrange?'

I scoffed to show how absurd I found his comment, keeping up the charade.

'So you're just going to ignore me then?' I felt him whisper from beside me, his warm breath tickling my ear. I was very well aware of the alcohol on his breath; it mingled with the scent of his perfume and aftershave, the resultant fragrance clouding all my senses with heat. My body responded instantly to it, the reaction a reflex action, I leaned into his broad frame as it over crowded my personal space.

'If only you'd take the hint.' I slammed my bottle of firewhisky against his chest. The fabric of his grey t-shirt was thin. I could feel his muscles through the material. Electricity pulsed through me where my fingers grazed him, turning my already fuzzy mind into a more muddled mess. James fingers curled around mine and the bottle I pressed into his front. I pushed myself off the sofa, detaching myself from James. I swear, I have no self control around this one. I felt his eyes on my retreating back as I walked away. The music and the alcohol sang through my veins as sweaty bodies swayed to the beat.

'YOU DON'T WANT ATTENTION. YOU JUST WANT MY HEART. BABY YOU JUST HATE THE THOUGHT OF BEING WITH SOMEONE NEW!'

I made a beeline towards Mike, who stood alone by the bar now, sans Jessica Hudson. I knew James was hot on his heels behind me. So I did the only rational thing that I could think of. I grabbed Mike by the sleeve, dragging him to the dance floor through the crowd. As the song changed, I wrapped my arms around Mike's neck, his hands rested comfortably on my waist. I leaned in a little and whispered into his ear that we needed to keep up appearances for the Slytherins. As I pulled away, I saw a smirk tug at the corners of Mike's mouth, his eyes glinting with mischief. The moments in which Mike would show emotion were rare and that is what made these moments so special. They reminded me of our days as children, when I would play at the Kane's and Mike could do almost anything and get away with it innocent, never guilty.

I saw James out of the corner of my eye; he grabbed the first girl that decided to spare him attention which doesn't take more than five seconds to find in his case and started snogging the living daylights out of her. I looked away as the scene unfolded. To my other side, I saw Dom clutch to Matt as if her life depended on it. Matt was looking down at her, occasionally kissing her cheeks, the tip of her nose, pecking her lips ever so sweetly.

Mike and I danced till the song ended. Mike stepped a little away from me, grabbing both my hands in his, kissing them lightly as he had done on so many balls held at the Malfoy, Kane and Lestrange Manors. I'll be right back, he mouthed to me over the music.

That's when I found Hannah again, a little tipsy than before. I knew this not only because of the way she bumped into me and let out a hysterical laugh but by the smell of intoxication too. I saw Henry attached to her.

'It's okay Henry. I can take it from here.' I pushed him off Hannah, Susan took Hannah from my arms into her own, supporting her up and carrying her off the dance floor. Henry eyed the two girls as they began to stagger away until his lustful gaze ended up on me instead.

'I don't mind you either.'

'You know better than to make that mistake Nott.'

A crowd seemed to have gathered around us. Amalthea stood close by, so did Albus Potter, Madeline and Jessica Hudson.

I turned away from him, but his hands pressed into my waist, hard and rough, pulling me into his body. I swatted at them, turning towards him again, pulling out my wand as I did so, pressing the tip under his chin, earning a few gasps from all around.

Henry raised his hands in mock surrender and let out a cold laugh. In a flash, a hand reached out to turn Henry away from me, knuckles colliding with his face. The force of the blow knocked him out effectively, he fell to the floor. Everything seemed to have halted, the music, the noise of the crowd, conversations from the sitting area, the dancing, Freddie's tricks from behind the bar; everything. The scene seemed to have been frozen in time. James was first to recover.

'Back off, Nott!' he bellowed, bending down to Henry's form on the floor, where he was clutching his nose. James straightened up and turned away. Within a flash, Henry was back on his feet too, who now turned James back to the scene, his knuckles colliding with James face in a similar fashion to the previous act of brawl. A roar of cheers and astonishment echoed around the room.

Followed by more chanting: 'Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!'

And fight they did. Matt got involved, Freddie jumped over the bar and joined in, so did Robert, Albus and Ivor. I let out another frustrated sigh, anger bubbling inside me; pointing my wand at them and forcing them all apart.

Another curtain of silence fell around the room. I was seething now. I no longer concealed my anger and annoyance directed to the boys, all before me sporting various shades to black blue and purple marks on their faces. My cold gaze met each and every one of them, freezing them mid action, as if they had been stupefied into their current state.

'Break it up now! Because I will not hesitate to get all your arses into trouble for not only this fight, but this party too.' My threat seemed to have done its deed as the boys as stood up and looked somewhat fearful. I was glad to know I still had it in me to deflate egos to adolescent boys.

I met Scorpious's apologetic gaze for a brief moment before turning around for the final time and leaving the party.

The air outside was cooler. As I stepped out, I saw Rose sitting on the floor nearby.

'Mind if I join?'

She gestured to the empty spot next to her as a yes. I silently walked to where she sat and placed myself beside her, stretching my legs in front of me, crossing them by the ankles like Rose had hers.

'Happy Birthday.'

'Thanks.'

Another pause followed.

'So, what's your excuse for leaving your own party?'

'I don't like big parties. But your cousin loves throwing them.'

Another pause.

'What's your excuse?'

'Your cousin seems to think I'm a damsel in distress.'

'James?'

I only nodded in response.

Rose laughed a little. 'I had expected him to have moved on by now.' She seemed to have momentarily forgotten my presence next to her. 'No offence.'

'None taken.'

A comfortable silence fell around us in the corridor. The air was fresher here unlike inside, where it was laced with heat, sweat, alcohol, tobacco and weed.

'Rose!' We both looked up simultaneously to the source of the sound. Scorpious walked over to us, offering Rose a hand. She took it gingerly, climbing to her feet. Scorpious pressed his lips briefly against hers.

'I'm sorry.' He pressed his forehead against Rose's as he said so. What he was apologizing for, I wasn't quite sure, but I suddenly felt like I was intruding into a very private moment between the two. Sorpious laced her fingers through his and they began walking down the corridor to my right.

I pushed myself off the ground too, making to leave, when a voice echoed around the empty hallway, coming from my left, stopping us all in our tracks.

'LEAVE ME ALONE!'

'I CAN'T DOMINIQUE! I CAN'T STAY AWAY FROM YOU ANY LONGER!'

Sure enough, I saw two shadows arguing around the corner, the two people themselves still successfully concealed by the turn.

'HUH!' Dom huffed out loudly, I knew she didn't believe a word the other person was saying.

'DOM, PLEASE. I'm in love with you.' The other voice pleaded. I knew that voice, I also knew it wasn't Matt's.

I looked around to where Rose was, she seemed just as perplexed as I pretended to be. I knew her brain would not take long to piece the puzzle together.

'I have a boyfriend.' Dom answered, empathising on the last word.

'Leave him!'

'I CAN'T JUST UP AND FUCKING LEAVE HIM YOU BLOODY WAN..'

The rest of Dom's sentence was however lost on her lips as the shadows collided in a heated kiss. There was a brief silence for a moment, until the figures drew apart once again, panting for breath.

'Tell me you felt nothing just now, TELL ME.'

I heard Dom sniffle a sob and surrender into the other figure's arms. Rose and I stood shell-shocked. Scorpious tugged lightly onto my sleeve, his other hand still laced through Rose's.

'Let's get out of here.' He whispered beside me, guiding us both away from the deserted corridor.

* * *

I saw commotion in the dungeons as a group of twenty or so people gathered around in the corridor right outside the Potion's classroom, it was my last class for the day. I weaved my way through the crowd of chatting sixth and seventh years. I vaguely spotted Dom standing by the wall, Matt animatedly talking beside her, she gazed off distantly into space until her eyes reverted to me and she smiled a nod my way. Matt followed her gaze too, focusing on me and smiling briefly.

I scanned around the crowd, spotting the familiar faces of my Potion's classmates. My eyes travelled to a piece of parchment attached to the wall with a list of names and the title, Potions Partners, written on top. Mike had pushed through to stand beside me as well. We had almost all our classes together; from beside me he saw the list, his eyes scanning to see who he was paired with. I found my name next to the one person I hoped that I would not and sure enough, I saw him out of the corner of my eye, smirking lazily in my direction as he leaned against the wall, one leg propped up and thick arms crossed across his broad chest. I felt my breath get caught in my throat momentarily. _How does he do that to me? How does he even time these moments? Here he is, waiting, smugly in the corridor for me to show up and gloat this in my face._

I took a calming breath, and made my way into the classroom, my head held high and my book clutched to my chest in my arms to conceal the trembling in my limbs. I set my books and bag down on a vacant work station. A few moments later I saw him saunter up beside me.

I ignored the smell of his aftershave assaulting my nose and instead continued to stare straight ahead as I shed off my robes, rolled up my sleeves and set to work. I put a fire under the cauldron and motioned to get the ingredients from the cupboard. But James beat me to it. He was already setting down all that we needed. His robes had disappeared too, sleeves rolled up in a similar fashion, veins popping in his thick arms, his long and slender fingers started cutting up various ingredients artfully as we began preparing the potion. I too, found the horseradish and focused on brewing the assigned potion.

I was the best in my Potion's class, second only to Potter himself. Professor Waltham had devised a new partner's list which was to be followed till the end of the year, all through to our NEWTS, which was amazing; looks like I'm stuck being a masochist with James for the rest of the year. Brilliant.

It was strange, how silent both Potter and I had been during the length of the lesson, this was perhaps the most dormant we had been around each other, no snarky remarks, no flirtatious comments, nothing. We both worked in synchronised harmony in putting together the potion. I stirred it clockwise one final time and stepped away. Potter peered ahead into the cauldron a little, a lazy smirk growing onto his lips as he admired our handiwork. That bugger Waltham was right to pair us together; as I looked around I saw that everyone else was still busy brewing their potions, which James and I had managed to brew in half time. A slight smile grazed my lips as I gazed down at our cauldron too, flickering over to James who caught my eye, his grin widening. As a reflex action, I looked away instantly.

As if on cue, Professor Waltham walked over to our table, we weren't hard to miss; we both stood idly, faintly smiling at our work station while everyone else was still engrossed in working their assignment. One look from the Professor and we both got an E. I began stuffing my books back into my bag; Merlin knows why I had taken them out in the first place.

Lost in thought I strolled out the class and down the dungeons. Faint steps echoed behind me in the corridor, following by the sound of a bang. I stopped mid step, calculating whether I should turn back or not, deciding against it, I continued forward. It had been eleven days since the accident; Ed had still not woken up. Every time this brooding thought occupied my mind I could not help but think what I would be feeling if the curse had hit the mark and James had been the one to fall off the broom as intended. A fresh pang of guilt coursed through my body. _Why? Why did people around me have to suffer for the ridiculous beliefs of my drunken father?_

'Lestrange! Wait up.'

I turned swiftly at the sound of his voice, gazing coolly in his direction as he caught up beside me. Without waiting for him to reach me, I turned back ahead, until I collided with suit of armour lined up against the corridor wall, effectively losing balance. Perfect.

Isabella-0, Clumsiness-1

A strong hold around my upper arms set me on my feet upright again.

'I'm sorry. I wasn't…' my apology faded as I came to realize the force setting me back on my feet. Good working brain, we're the only two people in the deserted corridor, of course it was him coming to my rescue.

Why was I even surprised that it was him? His fingers burned against my skin through my white school shirt as they pressed into my arms keeping me in place. With him, every touch, every moment burned stronger between us, like an all-consuming fire, that set us both ablaze.

'Looking.' I finished lamely, stepping out of James embrace. I stepped around him to continue my way down the corridor.

But James had other intentions. He took a hold of my hand, stopping me mid track. He seemed to be doing this a lot this year.

'Isabella wait.'

'Not now, Potter. I'm tired.'

'What changed?'

I met his gaze baffled at his question, a single nod asking for him to explain further.

'Between you and I. What changed? One minute, you're my best friend, the master mind behind my pranks, the next second you're ignoring me, treating me like scum, running away; _avoiding_ me. '

James still held my wrist, keeping my feet rooted where they had been, looking away to stare at the wall on my right, I kept my face as expressionless as possible. I drank in his presence. Throughout the length of the day I had successfully avoided looking directly at James, now as he stood before me, I saw the faint purple bruising at the right corner of his mouth, my hand itched to reach out and touch it. The one beside his left eye had almost disappeared; the remaining mark only gave the impression of a shadow upon his face in the scarce light of the hallway. Until his dark eyes shifted back at me, thick eyebrows furrowed together, his otherwise smooth forehead creased with a frown.

'You stopped sitting with Dom and I. You stopped coming out to the pitch. Dom you still talk to. Me? You treat me like shit.'

James let go of my wrist, running his hand through his messed up hair instead, fidgeting.

'Fuck. Why Izyy? WHY? WHY THE CHANGE OF HEART? WHY THE COLD SHOULDER? WAS IT THAT HARD FOR YOU TO GIVE ME AN EXPLANATION? WAS IT THAT HARD TO SUDDENLY BE FRIENDS WITH ME? WHY? WHAT CHANGED WITHIN THAT ONE SUMMER? WHY DID YOU START TO HATE ME? WHAT FOR?'

He downright bellowed now, his finger pointing at me accusingly, his face livid with frustration; his wild eyes seeking a reaction out of me.

'Drop it, Potter. I don't owe you any explanations.'

I stayed stubbornly rooted in place. My face cold and blank, giving away none of the emotions that coursed through my body, not the weakening in my knees, the rapid beating of my heart nor the tremble in my hands.

'For once Izzy, tell me why.' James pleaded, closing the distance between us again. 'Tell me once why and I won't bother you ever again. Just tell me why you won't talk to me. Why do you hate me?' his voice was much softer now, his eyes imploring.

I sighed loudly, my frustration evident.

'I do not hate you, Jay.' I whispered, staring at my feet, finally succumbing to the hurt he felt.

'You called me Jay.' James stated, shocked. 'You haven't called me Jay since…'

I gulped silently at my own slip up, crossing my arms defensively against my chest.

'Izzy.' His voice came out in almost a whisper. If I hadn't seen his lips move, I would have thought that I had only imagined it.

One of James hands found its way up to my face, stroking my cheek under the fall of my hair. His hazel eyes were burning with unknown emotion, they locked me in place as I stood before him in the dimly lit corridor, neither of us breaking eye contact. I don't know how long we stood there like that, wrapped up in our own little bubble, frozen in time, with one of James' hands cupping the right side of my face and my arms stubbornly crossed to prevent me from making any contact in return.

Until a shadow around the corner broke me out of my trace and I silently pulled out my wand as it sent James flying away due to the hex I had just casted.

I saw Alya Zabini's figure materialise around the corner, she strode up to me confidently, accompanied by Ella Wilde, another seventh year Gryffindor. Alya took one glance at the scene before her and silently linked her arm through mine as James managed to pull himself to his feet. I saw Ella out of the corner of my eye checking up on James who refused to give her any attention, keeping it all focused on my retreating back. I could hear her congratulate James on pulling off yet another prank, something along the lines of 'it was brilliant how all the cauldrons blew up like dung bombs. '

I shifted my attention to Alya instead.

Dark haired with bright purple eyes, Alya was fawned over just as much as Ella. The two had been my roommates along with Roxanne Weasley, Fred's twin sister and Emilia Heart. The divide had been clear since day one, Alya and I were the pompous purebloods (I more than her obviously, Alya's father was not as bad as like mine, he had a tolerant bone in his body and had matured beyond prejudices), perfectly poised and composed at all times, and Roxanne and Ella were the rebels, outspoken and unorthodox. Emilia was just caught up somewhere in between, but Jessica Hudson, she was hated by everyone. Obnoxious and overly self assured, Jessica lived in her own little world. None of us could stand her and out of the six of us, she spent the least amount of time in the dorm, she was often found in beds where she did not belong. I followed close by, minus the being-found-in-beds-I-did-not-belong-in obviously, I had my own Heads Dorm now.

Despite our differences, the Gryffindor girls had always remained civil through the course of our time here at Hogwarts. We had mutual respect and understanding for each other, we didn't undermine the other due to our differences, this was one reason why we worked so well. Of the countless sleepovers we had had in our dorm, there had been no hostility; no wonder Dom enjoyed being in our dormitory more than hers.

'That's some scar Henry has, don't you think?' Alya's voice drifted me out of my thoughts. I saw Ella was now walking right beside us as well. Minus Potter, _thankfully._

'Would have been much worse had father found out.' I muttered distractedly.

'I offered to fix it for him. He said he liked it that way.'

'Blimey! James said the same thing! Something about battle scars.' Ella said.

We had reached the doors of the Great Hall by now. Alya unlinked her arm from mine and moved towards the Slytherin table, finding Madeline perched at the centre. I too found my way towards the Rawenclaw table next to Dom, while Ella and Roxanne proceeded towards the Gryffindor table.

'Hey.'

Dom gave me half dazed smiled as she caught me slip in next to her and returned to piling food in her plate. I observed her silently for a while. She only pushed her food around, never once making an effort to eat it.

'Dom?'

I prompted her to tell me what was on her mind.

Dom met my gaze, her eyes were bloodshot again, her face pale, her joviality lost somewhere under the depths of sorrow.

'Matt and I broke up.' She whispered from beside me, I quietly rubbed my hand against her shoulder as consolation, vaguely remembering details from Rose's birthday party, wondering if that was reality or a dream; until a scream resonated around the walls of the hall, all eyes drawn to the source of the sound.

Rose Weasley stood shell shocked at the Gryffindor table; James sat beside her, all blood effectively drawn from their faces as a dead pigeon lay next to the plate of food in front of James, lifeless, inert.

 _ **A/N:**_ _ **I'm hopefully going to be writing longer chapters now that my setting and characters have been set into the plot. And I do not know the song ''Attention'' by Charlie Puth.**_

 _ **Anyway. What do you think? Isabella's a hypocrite. James is a stubborn idiot. Ayla is sly and silent. Henry is a slimy bastard. And Dom and Matt broke up! James is making efforts to get the truth out of Isabella. And she almost says it.**_

* * *

 _ **Up next:**_

'Loosen up, Lestrange. I liked you more when you pulled pranks with my brother. Besides, I know you aren't exactly...'

His words died onto his lips, as we both took in the scene before us.


	5. Chapter 5: One date

**Woah woah woah. Aren't I on fire? Another update? Oh yes it is.**

 **Enjoy. :D**

* * *

Yeah, that's rather strange since I should be avoiding anything that could possibly connect me to Potter. But give the judgmental looks a rest as I explain my hypocrisy.

Dominique Weasley was my best friend before I met Potter. Not so much now though. We aren't as close as we once used to be, although she still made efforts to talk to me.

When we returned back to school for our Fourth Year in September, Potter would pester me to unimaginable limits to be my 'friend' again. I had pledged to avoid James and she had become my savior. I don't particularly know how, but Dom got through to him. She'd make sure that I could avoid him whenever I could, till date James hates her for it.

I can still oddly place my first memory of her, when I spotted her at King's Cross Station, surrounded by her family, her parents' eyes shining with admiration as they set her off for her first school day. Needless to say. I was jealous, I was incredibly jealous that she had her family to see her off while I had been escorted by my Butler because father had been too busy nursing a hangover. I didn't see her much during my first train ride, but we chatted on the boats and hence were the commencement of the oh-so beautiful friendship of Dominique Weasley and Isabella Lestrange. The fact that all of Gryffindor practically comprised of her family members meant she was usually found in my common room, more than hers. And so, we steadily and fondly became friends. We would sit for lunch together. Sometimes I'd go over to her house table, sometimes she'd come to the Slytherin table with Ed and I, and her cousin Al and my cousin Scorpius.

I refused to ever sit on my own table, the Gryffindor table; I'd avoid James as much as I humanly could. But sometimes Alya and Charlie would harass me to sit with them. Charlie is the elder Malfoy, Uncle Draco's son. And yes, Uncle Draco did feign a heart attack at his being sorted into Gryffindor, telling Aunt Tori 'he'd file a case on the blasted thing', the blasted thing being the sorting hat of course. Charlie just had a laugh about it. Alya's father, Blaise Zabini, however had a less dramatic reaction to her daughter's 'treachery', but neither had acted as badly as mine. The scars are enough proof of that.

They were the only reason I'd ever eat at my OWN table, because somehow Charlie was able to threaten James not to tease me, which was not very hard to doubt, because he seemed to be mates with Potter. You think you're in a parallel universe right? Not one but both Malfoy and Potter men being civil towards each other.

With thoughts of broken prejudices and clichéd over-protective cousins, I made my way to Dom. Although we had been pretty close in the first few years of school, we were acquaintances now. That however did not change the fact that she could see right through me. The early years of our friendship had made us transparent to each other.

Dom was one of the very few who knew me; our twelve year old selves had exchanged more than enough to know each others' deepest secrets. Over time, we had come to a silent, mutual consensus to guard each other's secret well. We knew when the other needed help and we silently would appear to each other's rescue.

Dom and Matt went on their first official date back in fourth year, which obviously ended badly much too easily, thanks to all the intervening the Weasley/Potter clan did. The two called quits after their first date only but were reunited when in a game of truth or dare, Matt was forced to voice his true feeling for Dom, again at the hands of the manipulation by Rose Weasley.

(Mental side note: the two need to grow a pair)

They finally gave things a shot with a date at the first Hogsmeade trip in Sixth year. Their relationship has been incredibly strong since then.

But Dom's troubles in paradise were momentarily forgotten given the present circumstance.

Professor McGonagall was the first to recover at the scene. She rose gracefully from her seat at the front of the hall, steering down to the spot where Rose stood, petrified; her robes flowing behind her as she moved to the spot in question. The Potter Weasley clan was assembled around the scene. I saw Albus and Scorpious move towards the table too. Professor pointed her wand out towards the bird and a new series of gasps erupted across the hall. From my seat at the Ravenclaw table, I wasn't quite sure what it was she cast and what the outcome was, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't good.

McGonagall pointed her wand to her throat, addressing the student body and faculty directly.

'Settle down everyone. ' Another wave and all the food in front of us disappeared, seeping down into our plates. It was replaced again after a minute or so. All the other teachers had risen from their seats as well, keeping students in check. I saw the Aurors standing by the doors of the Great Hall peering in, one stern look from McGonagall froze everyone in their spot, even them.

She motioned towards the door as James and Rose followed after her. I stood up too, noticing how the bird had now disappeared from the table altogether. I met Professor at the entrance of the hall as she was about to walk out.

'Professor, is there anything I can do to help?' I offered, seeking out an explanation from her.

She silently met my gaze, after a moment she said: 'Miss Lestrange, please make sure all first year students are escorted to their dormitories by you and prefects. I don't want anyone roaming the halls.'

'Absolutely Professor.'

I set about the tasks given once dinner was over. I summoned the entire prefect body and they began escorting students back to their dorms. As I spotted Amalthea exiting the hall with her fair share of first years, I told her to meet me in the Charms classroom on the third floor later.

* * *

I yet again patiently waited for Amalthea to show up. The room was unused and dusty; I walked briskly the length of the room as time passed by. I turned around as the click of the door broke the silence prevalent over the room.

'Who was it this time?' I questioned.

'Take a lucky guess. Who could it be?'

'Nott?'

'His ego is wounded Isabella. You really think he'd give up without a fight?'

'That's it. This time when McGonagall asks me, I'm telling her it's him.' I motioned for the door; determination laced in each stride, only to be physically stopped by Amalthea once again, the feeling for her fingers around my arm all too familiar.

'What for? You really think that will solve everything.'

'WELL. IT'S A START!'

I ran a frustrated hand through my hair which was coming undone from my braid.

'Calm down Lestrange.' Amalthea reprimanded. 'There is no proof. None. He will have a clean slate when investigations will be ensued. Which will give him the extra edge, he'll be more cautious. He might not even flaunt his brilliant ideas next time, and then I really won't be able to do anything.'

'He poisoned someone, Amalthea! All for a silly stupid grudge.'

'It's more than a silly stupid grudge. You know that. It's about power plays and lost pride.'

'AND THAT GIVES HIM THE EXCUSE TO ATTACK SOMEONE TO KILL THEM?'

Amalthea huffed out in frustration.

'Look, I'm doing all that I can, as discreetly as I can. The minute I had found out, I transfigured that bird as a warning. Be glad that it worked.'

I let out a cold laugh.

'Of course, yes. THANK SALAAZAR JAMES IS STILL ALIVE. Too bad this one didn't hit the mark EITHER!'

I dropped down onto the first available seat. My body felt drained and tired. Not even three weeks since school had started and James had already been attacked twice. What good were these Aurors anyway? If a bunch of seventeen year olds could get past them and execute all their evil machinations?

'How did this one happen?'

'It wasn't only his food that was poisoned. The entire table's was. But somehow, Henry had charmed the food on Potter's plate to have a tenth fold effect. There will be a fair share of Gryffindors in the hospital wing tomorrow, as the charm will take time to set in. Potter's hand was laced with a stronger poison after potion's class, when Ivor pretended to bump into him outside the Great Hall.'

'Which means his hand still has traces of poison on it.'

'McGonagall wasn't born yesterday. She must have run a check on James to make sure he was clean.'

'But when she finds the poison on his hand, she'll know. James will tell her he bumped into Ivor.'

'That does not ensure him getting caught.'

'What if they gave him veritaserum?'

'They aren't that stupid. Henry confunded Ivor to do it. They can easily just pass off as the memory being tempered with. On top of that Nott stole the antidote from his father's cupboard. You really thought they wouldn't think this through? No one can make an arrest without proof, or a confession.'

I resumed pacing around the room, running my fingers furiously through my hair.

'McGonagall beckoned me to her office.' I muttered silently into the night air.

'Tell her what she needs to hear Isabella; don't let your emotions get the best of you.'

* * *

Amalthea's final words from the previous night were ringing in my ears. It was the day after the Great Hall episode. Now more Aurors dotted the corridors, and students were questioned for any possible evidence. Through my walk around the castle and to the Headmistress's office I came across a few perfects patrolling the corridors, it was that time of the day again, when the castle would dim out with the night and only a handful of people would roam as it fell asleep. I was astonished to see that the Headmistress had still allowed students to patrol, much like myself. Something about keeping order within the castle, that despite everything life does not stop for you.

As my thoughts took over me again, I realised I had two options, spill the beans to McGonagall and put this all to an end or keep my mouth shut and save the wrath of the scared eight, protect James as best as I could and keep my distance so that my father won't aim at taking more innocent lives.

I was aware of the course of action that would be undertaken by McGonagall; this wasn't the first time she had interrogated me following a suspicious incident. For all my time at Hogwarts, she would seek me out, ask me who I suspected to be involved and taken action where needed. I did not expect today to be any different.

Sometimes I felt like I was the Severus Snape of my age, hiding in shadows to protect the ones I loved, spying on my so-called friends and family and the unrequited love.

My thoughts came to a halt as I muttered the password to permit me entrance to the Headmistress's office. As I knocked at the door, an Auror standing at the threshold allowed me to enter, in doing so I crossed paths with James and Rose both, their faces inked in brooding expressions, their eyes dark. I saw Harry Potter seated into the chairs in front of the Professor, their whispering discontinuing at my intrusion.

'You wished to see me Professor.'

'Miss Lestrange, have a seat please. I'm sure you're aware of who Harry Potter is?'

'Yes Professor.' She folded her hands about herself and resumed her seat on the opposite end of the desk as well.

'Miss Lestrange, is it true that you called my son 'the dirt beneath your feet' at the beginning of this year?'

McGonagall, shocked at the revelation eyed me alarmingly.

'I... uh...'

'And you also hexed him a few hours prior to the incident.'

'Mr. Potter, you can't possibly...'

'I expected better Miss Lestrange.' McGonagall cut through.

'You don't surely think that I caused this havoc, do you?'

'Miss Lestrange, I have first-hand knowledge of the fact that you and my son were once inseparable. Until one day you grew cold. Perhaps this could have been you taking another step towards your change of attitude.'

I collected myself before I replied.

'I'm a Lestrange, Mr. Potter. The war I had nothing to do with still dealt me a hard blow. My father though still feared has a tainted reputation. I am on top of my class and at my best behaviour for the best recommendations to healing school. Not good, the best. I know I have to fend for myself. Bribery may get me an internship but won't prove my worth to the world. I want people to know I deserve it. Why would I ever tarnish the reputation that I am trying so hard to rebuilt, knowing it will cost me my future?'

I took a deep breath before I said my next words, finding my most convincing voice.

'Your son has his fair share of haters and admirers alike, but I assure you, I'm not either one of them, Mr. Potter.'

Mr. Potter held my gaze for a while before he gave me a slight nod. I had an unsettling suspicion that he had just used legilimency at me. He broke away and looked towards the Headmistress. The two seemed to be engaged in a silent conversation. Were they both having a conversation in their minds? Cause that's just downright creepy.

Mr. Potter turned back to me, his whole demeanour changed from one of indifference to something a little warmer, the calculating air of Auror changing immediately. He looked so much like James in this moment; the same messy hair, but eyes contrastingly different, warm and green. I seemed to have been put to a test as I noticed the shift. Had I passed? Had my speech had the desired effect?

McGonagall broke the silence first.

'Isabella, I need you to answer me truthfully. Is there anyone at all you suspect to be involved in the attack?'

'As I said, Potter has many friends and enemies alike. I am not sure I follow though.'

'We found traces of poison, Miss Lestrange.' Harry Potter addressed me now.

My eyes averted to McGonagall, her lips pressed in a thin line.

'We were reported at the Auror's Department and told that the Notts have been trying to smuggle this potion around. It won't be a surprise if Henry Nott had access to it, I believe him and my son have quite a Quidditch rivalry.' Harry Potter continued.

 _If only it was just that._

'Professor McGonagall here believes that you might be of help in tracing down whoever is behind all this. If there is anything you can remember, even remotely relevant to this investigation, please tell us. This meeting will remain perfectly confidential.'

I took a moment to consider my next words carefully.

'I'm sorry Mr. Potter, but I'm afraid that I can be of no help. I have no clue whatsoever who has been behind all this.'

'Of course, thank you for your time. Feel free to contact Minevra if you remember anything.'

* * *

The culprit was roaming the halls of the school freely, and more Aurors dotted the grounds. McGonagall somehow had convinced the search team to not stay inside the school but only on the periphery. A number of students and teachers alike had been selected to patrol the corridor to minimize panic and maximize security.

Ed had gained consciousness and was recovering under the supervision of several healers in 's. His progress was speedy with most of his bones healed, however the loss for blood was still being compensated for through potions and monitored diet plans.

It was a Tuesday night which meant that I had to monitor tonight's potion's detention. I had spent dinner with my darling cousins. Scorpious had accessed his mother's account at Gringotts and gone to the liberty to withdraw his grandmother's ring. Said ring had apparently been presented to his girlfriend of two years, Rose Weasley and despite Aunt Tori's passive yet undeniable control of Uncle Draco's behaviour, all hell had broken loose. Ronald Weasley though okay with his daughter's relationship in the past wanted her nowhere near any Malfoy ( _treacherous bastard I tell you_ , he would say) while Uncle Draco wanted Scorpious to understand the repercussions of his actions; if you know what I mean.

Oh don't get me wrong, he loved his sons, even Charlie, despite him being put into Gryffindor but this situation called for more relentless action on his part too.

Charlie and I were somehow just caught between the crossfire. It was exhausting to say the least, which explained why I kept dozing off waiting for the younger Potter to show up and start scrubbing the dirty cauldrons piled into the corner of the classroom.

My eyes flew open with a start at the sound of the door closing and Albus Potter stood before me, green eyes shining brightly, deep like the forest. In that moment, I noticed all that made him different from his brother. His hair, though dark, was less messy, his face was longer; his built leaner and he looked an inch or two shorter. I looked at him pensively until I nodded my head to the corner of the room where the dirty pile was placed. He gave a silent nod in return and motioned to work.

Forty-five minutes had passed and both of us had yet to utter our first words. I was growing a little impatient now.

'Do these vials need to be kept back in the cupboard too?' Albus questioned into the silent classroom.

'I suppose. But we do not have the key.'

'Here. I got it.' Albus stood in front of the desk, tapped his wand onto it, muttered incantations under his breath and the key surfaced.

All the while as I stood by opening and closing my mouth and finding no words.

 _How elegant, Isabella._

'I do not think that is a good idea.'

My feeble protests were shut down as he had already put the key in the keyhole, twisting it to open the cupboard.

'Loosen up, Lestrange. I liked you more when you pulled pranks with my brother. Besides, I know you aren't exactly...'

His words died onto his lips, as we both took in the scene before us. The storage space was a mess. Jars lay broken on the floor, contents spilled into a gooey mess as they mixed together; everything was askew.

'What the fuck?'

 _My thoughts exactly Albus, my thoughts exactly._

For us both were fixatedly staring at the same thing, James golden snitch from his tenth birthday, lying on the floor. Albus bent down as he picked it, studying it between his fingers.

'What is going on here?'

The inevitable question of the hour was repeated, except it wasn't I or Albus who said it.

As we turned around at the source of the sound, we came face to face with a stern looking Professor Waltham.

Beside me, Potter stammered for a couple of seconds until I opened my mouth to clear my throat.

'We only wished to return the clean vials back to the cupboard Professor; only upon opening it did we come across the state it is in.'

I made sure I spoke calmly.

'And how exactly did you open it, Miss Lestrange?'

'It was lying open. We made no effort to do so.' I lied easily. Behind me, I nudged Albus slightly who strangely enough understood my signal and placed the key onto my open palm behind my back.

Professor Waltham's eyes averted between the two of us until with a wave of his hand he dismissed us both.

I placed the key back at the desk as I pretended to enter Albus's detention into the book lying open on it.

The professor was still staring at the items in his cupboard when we left the classroom.

We walked in silence for a couple of minutes; the soft glow of the lamps dancing around the corridor. I sighed in relief at the fact that Albus wasn't asking any questions.

However, as we came to a safe distance away from the classroom, that changed.

'Care to explain what just happened back there?' he asked into the silent night.

I remained quiet.

'Why did you protect me?'

 _More silence._

'Why didn't you tell Professor we found my brother's snitch lying on the floor? Why protect him? A person you supposedly hate?'

 _Can he not take a hint?_

'Why did you lie?'

'Because I don't want to monitor another detention that you might be put into.' I halted as I replied.

'You're lying.'

I huffed.

'You're lying!' He pressed.

I decided to stare at the stone wall beside us instead.

'You're hiding something.'

'Just stay out of this, okay? Do me a favour and stay out of this.'

'I don't need you to tell me what to do.'

'Stay out of this.' I repeated again firmly before turning around and making my way down the corridor again.

'I won't spare whoever is trying to hurt him. I MEAN IT!'

Albus's threat echoed off the walls behind me.

* * *

The rumour mill at Hogwarts is a very intriguing thing. It could change you from a nobody to the most important person in the school in milliseconds.

Girls in dormitories, boys in locker rooms and students generally in the hallway would say the absurdist of things and it would spread like Chinese whisper, travel faster than wildfire and burst the victims in flames.

I have had undeniably untrue things said about me as well, so have my beloved friends. But we all have reached a point where we don't bother anymore. However the latest one had to be clarified with all the people connected to me.

Want to know what it was?

I hated James because I liked his younger brother.

His younger brother.

Albus Severus Potter.

Who thinks I'm protecting him.

Who also threatened to hurt anyone who would hurt James.

Who even started this one?

I've barely ever talked to the kid.

Who even believes that?

All the Slytherins at the Slytherin table where Charlie and I sit with Scorpious and Albus.

I sit at that table too much. Which needs to change.

That is why I decide to eat lunch out today.

The weather was still a little warm, it wasn't particularly sunny, there was a fair share of cloud cover, which meant not a lot people were out trying to get a tan and it was slightly windy.

The month of September was coming to an end. The inevitable October chill was setting in.

I sat on the grass, in the serene afternoon, munching onto an apple as I read my book. I looked up as I felt a figure sit down in front of me.

Have I not had enough of the Potter boys this week that the elder one has to sit down here in front me, make my heart skip a couple of beats and walk away smugly?

'Is there anything I can help you with?'

Yes. I'm a masochist.

Yes. This boy is unhealthy for me.

Yes. I'll probably die of heart failure as this boy keeps making it skip beats.

No. I'm not going to pass the opportunity to talk to him, especially if he made the effort to appear right in front of me.

I asked him if I could help him, didn't I?

Yes. You may judge.

'Yeah. Might be. '

I studied him carefully. _Was he serious? Did he really just try and act civil?_

I observed his posture; he sat crossed legged opposite to me on the grass, his robes lost somewhere as always, sleeves rolled up carelessly revealing his taut, tan muscles. The wind picked up a little speed, caught in his dark locks, making them resemble a bird's nest in all their dishevelled glory. No smirk, no cheesy grin, all amusement absent from his face, eyes burning through me; setting every nerve ending on fire. His expression was nothing short of drop dead seriousness. I gulped.

I snapped my book close, sparing the nasty words that a conversation with this lad would induce, and placed it down, waiting for him to carry on. A crowd seemed to have been forming around us, as always.

'Go out with me. '

The minute the words left his mouth, I pushed myself off the ground and starting walking away, more like stalking, book and lunch levitated behind me.

'Heyy, would you give it up already?' Potter said, following me. He pulled at my arm until I had turned around.

There it was; that arrogant smirk.

All too familiar as his eyes turned dark, gleaming with mischief; ignited.

'Come one.'

I only grunted in response, because I'm such a lady.

If he was fire, I was the ice that thawed him. We clashed. We burned. Both too stubborn to look away, trapped in a consensual staring contest.

'One date.' He said determinedly.

'I'd rather die.' I huffed, irritated. His hold on my arm was tangible; I noticed how close we stood.

'Na-uh, Lestrange. I can't have you give up your life for me. Let's be less self-sacrificial, no?' The amusement returned.

'You're delusional.'

'Am I? Have you forgotten what I'm capable of?'

'What will it take to make you leave me alone? Because the hexing, constant insults and rejections all don't seem to work on you.'

'I'm the hero, Lestrange. And that wasn't too far away when you agreed with me.'

'I'd rather not bring that up. Are you always this sappy or is it the hero talking again?'

'Oh my little Lestrange!' His amused laugh filled me with warmth. 'Why so bitter?'

'Got a problem?'

'Not at all.'

I could only scowl in annoyance by this point.

'I hope you die.' This boy was too good at testing my patience. I decided that walking away would be the only sane thing to do. But he had other plans, he always did. In two strides, he was before me again, blocking my way. His face filled my vision, lips graced with a smirk though the amusement didn't reach his eyes. My eyes traced the curve of his lips before they settled to stare at the dead in his eye instead.

'Is that what will give you happiness? My death?' he asked, his voice dropping a decibel. The last two words rolling off his tongue mockingly.

'Surely. ' I said, my head held high, I wasn't backing down, not in front of him, no matter how much the proximity bothered me, no matter how much my hands itched to touch him.

'Well in that case,' His voice was deathly low now, almost a whisper, he stood too close, waves warmth radiating off his body, his eyes were burning with an unknown emotion, the golden orbs ablaze making him look feverish.

'I'll just have to strangle myself with your silk scarf.'

Each word was slow and deliberate as if he was giving me time to comprehend the full implications of his actions, because now, one of his hands was undoing the crimson scarf that held my curls. He stepped back slowly, neither of us breaking eye contact, neither backing down, until he turned, strolling away.

I pulled out my wand from my pocket. He tossed the crimson scarf in his hands. I took the opportunity, timing it perfectly, whispered a 'confringo' and saw the scarf blast to bits.

I didn't know how I looked like in that moment; my hair was blowing around my face wildly in of the wind, a mess of dark locks, tangled and chaotic, much like my frantically beating heart. I crossed my arms triumphantly across my chest.

This time, I smirked when a startled looking James Potter turned around to face me.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Here's a little fun fact. The last scene between James and Isabella with the scarf was the first I ever wrote for this story.**_

 _ **Up next:**_

'This could have been you.' He whispered into the night.

His hands had curled around both my upper arms now, clutching me close as we stood flushed against each other, his forehead rested against mine, the tips of our noses brushing, both our mouths parted in anticipation, less than an inch away.

'Hell, I want it to be you.'


	6. Chapter 6: The Boyfriend

' _Izzy?'_

' _James?' she turned around for confirmation, though she did not need any._

' _How did you get up here?'_

 _He stood in the doorway of the Third Year Girls Dormitory, smiling sheepishly, his broom clutched into his side an answer enough._

' _Well, I'm glad you came. Can you help me with my trunk?'_

She's glad _, he thought. Little James had already started enjoying the attention of all the girls around him, especially the one in front of him right now._

' _Sure.'_

 _Together they fastened her trunk close and levitated it down the stairs to add to the pile. They grinned at each other again as their eyes met._

' _Izzy? There's... something else.'_

' _Yes?' She asked him timidly._

' _Will you be my girlfriend?'_

 _Her eyes grew wide as she considered his words. Feeling bold in her shell and taking him by surprise, she moved forward and pressed her lips briefly to his; the action innocent and sweet._

' _Of course.' She answered easily._

 _They grinned at each other again for good measure._

 _He grabbed her hand in his, the other clutching his broomstick and together they made their way down to the Great Hall._

 _The scene dissolved and Isabella found herself standing inside a mass of tress; the grass damp below her feet and the skies above her head grey._

 _That's when she saw it_

 _A flash._

 _A single beam of light._

 _A body battered and bruised._

 _A boy shackled._

 _His clothes tattered._

 _She strained her eyes in the darkness, failing to recognize the chained prisoner before her._

 _Another flash._

 _This time, it allowed her to notice the dried blood which drenched the prisoner's clothes._

 _A whisper._

 _A cry._

 _Another flash._

 _She saw his golden brown eyes, swarms of green floating within them. She'd recognize them anywhere, anytime._

* * *

My eyes flew open with a start on Saturday morning. I had dreamt of my first kiss ever. My _only_ kiss ever. My fingers flew to my mouth; the tingling feeling had remained there, even now. Guilt coursed through my veins as reminiscence washed over me, as James's face from my dream haunted me in my awaken state. My dormitory was quite and cold. No other sound except for my own laboured breathing.

I climbed out of my bed and into the shower, turning the temperature alternately between hot and cold, hoping the guilt would be washed away along with the exhaustion.

Today was a Hogsmeade weekend. Ayla had a date, as always. Dom only wanted to sulk around the castle and skip going all together, I wonder if Matt was being just as miserable. Ed, my usual companion had yet to return to normalcy. Which brought me to my present situation.

I stood in the Entrance Hall, where students wandered in the general vicinity, waiting for Mike to show up. This was his first Hogsmeade weekend. We had decided to go together so I could show him around the village. I saw Charlie standing in a nearby corner too, talking to a pretty blonde; he waved as our eyes met. Hannah stood a little sideways, surrounded by a group of fellow sixth year Rawenclaws.

Bored already, I stood in my own corner, deciding to do what I did best, stalk James silently.

Shut up. It's not creepy, stop looking at me like that.

He was flirting shamelessly with Jessica Hudson. One arm propped up against the stone wall behind her head as they leaned a little into each other. She was dressed in a skirt a little too short to be appropriate and a top cut low. Seriously? How cliché could is she? I rolled my eyes at her obviousness.

They were dating now apparently. Dom had confirmed any rumours that had been flying about. I ran into her on my way to Transfiguration, the resultant conversation had been too awkward as Dom and Mike had eye sex in the form of a very intense staring contest and I stood there pretending to be dumb enough not to see what was right in front of me, completely oblivious. Sometimes my own acting skills are more than enough to feed my ego.

Jessica was responding rather enthusiastically to whatever James said, all with tossing her hair over her shoulder and touching his arm as she laughed at something he said. My eyes started narrowing on their own accord. Looks like someone might be waking up with pink hair in the morning. Simple enough to keep attention off the culprit but effective enough for her to scream bloody murder. What? I'm only guessing. I'm not saying I will have anything to do with her hair unceremoniously turning pink tomorrow.

I smirked despite myself.

'Uh, Liz? Who are you smirking at?'

Finally Mike graced me with his presence.

'No one.'

I shot him a smile. He knew what this one meant. It's the same one from when we were kids. He saw mischief glint in my eyes. He grew suspicious too, silently telling me he'd enjoy whatever I had in mind for whomever.

When Michael and I were seven, we'd go out into the village to play with the other kids. Michael's parents had a rule about the house help not mingling with each other. One day we caught the nanny in a heated moment with the cook. Even at the tender age of seven we lived up to our names, we blackmailed her to take us into the village whenever she went. Michael's parents never found out that their only child was stepping outside to play with common children in the streets. Them knowing meant she would be fired, so she made sure to hide it well.

You see. Growing up in a strict pureblood household we were forbidden to mingle with those below us. This behaviour was drilled into us from day one. We were taught to scorn first and smile later. But Mike and I were curious children. We wanted to meet people, go new places, discover.

One day, as we played, a kid who learned I was a Lestrange threw mud at me and called me filth, the act one of mockery, given how I was a pureblood. He then proceeded to point and laugh at my former prim and proper dressing. I didn't cry or whine or scream as I stood in the crowd surrounding us, instead I gave Michael one of my smiles, the one behind which I was plotting revenge.

He did nothing about it; he only held my hand and led me to the nanny who cleaned me up as we made our way back to the Manor.

When we next went to play in the village, _that_ kid appeared again. This time, he was the one that was embarrassed, as his trousers had slid on their own accord from his waist to pool down around his ankles. No matter what he did, they won't pull up, he ran back home in his yellow underpants as kids laughed at him.

That was the first strong sign I ever showed of magical powers.

'Should I be worried?' Mike's voice jolted me back to the present. I'm sure me staring into space, with the smile on my lips and my head titled to the side as my eyes glazed over looked completely normal.

'Not particularly.' I answered inconspicuously. 'Not for yourself at least.' I gave Mike another sly smile as we walked towards the gate.

* * *

The walk to Hogsmeade was relaxing. The weather wasn't too warm or too cold. It was perfect. It felt good to be out in the open. Students and spectators bustled about the village. Our first stop was the Kane Inn, a luxury hotel under Mike's name that had opened lately. The interiors were warm and ostentatious, the mouldings on the ceiling rich, the carpet underneath the crunch of my boots thick. I stood poised in the entrance hall, as Mike shook hands with the manager, talking in hushed tones, most likely about business. A few minutes later, he escorted me out looking pleased with himself.

As we passed shops I showed Mike all my favourite spots, the turn of the street where this little bookshop I liked was, the joke shop, Honey duke's, a new quidditch supplies store that had opened recently, Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop (the boy is obsessed, do not get me started) and the Three Broomstick's Inn, which was our final stop.

It was well past into the afternoon when he reached the pub, our stomachs grumbling with hunger. Our walk had me a little tired as my body ached for food. I was thankful to see the stuffed chicken on my plate when our orders arrived, the aroma filling my senses and appetizing me.

After finishing our food, Mike decided to get us some drinks. Many familiar faces filled the area as he came back to our table with two butterbeers in his hands.

'So, want to tell me whose murder you were plotting?'

'I have no idea what you are talking about.' I replied innocently, looking away as I took a sip from my drink.

'I grew up with you Liz. Do not insult me.'

He took a sip of his drink too, eyes scanning over me from above the rim.

I sighed unabashedly.

'Fine. There is a boy.'

'Oh there's always a boy.' Mike commented drily.

'Do you want to know or not?' I asked impatiently.

'Right. There is a boy?'

'A boy that I can't have. So naturally no one else should either.'

'Naturally.' Mike did not question my logic one bit. 'But someone does.'

'And I will change that soon.'

'Quite the love life.'

We went back to sipping on our drink for another couple of minutes, a comfortable silence drifting around us as the hustle and bustle of the pub continued.

'So how is yours?'

'Hmmm?' He questioned.

'How is your love life Michael.'

'Its... evolving.' He took a moment to choose the word.

'Should I be worried?'

'Not particularly.' He answered. 'Not for yourself at least.' He repeated my words from earlier this morning.

A flash of his and Dom's shadows from the night of Rose's birthday came flooding back to me. I pushed it out of my mind, deciding not to pry. I trusted Mike to tell me himself when he was ready. I trusted Dom too.

The conversation stirred around to various topics as we sipped our drinks. The talk was light and easy. We reminisced about our childhood days, laughing occasionally as we shared jokes only we understood. I asked him how he liked Hogwarts so far. He said he was adjusting better than he expected. We decide it would get better as Ed returned. For now, Charlie and Mike seemed to be getting along rather well. He asked me about James (I deliberately left out the part that he was THE boy), Fred, even Matt. About Scorpious and Rose. About Albus (also known as my latest conquest, _ew_ ), even about Dom, playing it so safe as I tried to pry him to confess feelings I knew existed well enough. We talked about classes and teachers. About the attacks and the Aurors, the upcoming dull and monotonous pureblood dinners we must attend and the business ventures of the Kanes, the one that Mike was soon to inherit and I along with him when we were to get married.

Yes. We are that kind of purebloods. Who are expected to marry each other right out of school and reproduce to carry the bloodline forward. I shuddered internally.

We left the pub as the evening started to grow dark, the sky tinged in purples and pinks. The sun was setting behind the horizon; the crowd out in the streets had started to lessen. We walked a couple of steps wandering around with no particular destination in mind until Mike pointed ahead of us.

'What is that?' he asked.

'The shrieking shack.' I replied conversationally.

'The shrieking shack?' he repeated.

'The most haunted house in Britian.'

'THE most haunted?' he studied the crumbling structure cautiously.

'Are you scared?' I teased.

He looked at me, one eye brow raised inquisitively.

Without warning I raced up the path towards the dilapidating house. 'Race you to the top', I turned back announcing my intentions as my feet moved forward, my hair whipping about me as I did so. I caught a glimpse of Michael's bewildered expression. He stayed rooted where he was. Of course, he did. It was uncanny for children like us to be running around villages at the age of seventeen and laughing foolishly. We should be thinking about possible suitors and starting families and arranging dinner parties to showcase our inheritance.

I had won the race; Mike was trailing far behind me despite his longer stride, his slow pace was steady and balanced, he had made no effort to compete with me in the race. What a tosspot. I wheezed as I bent on my knees trying to catch my breath.

Amidst all the silliness, I noticed two tangled figures, breaking apart a little at my intrusion. The girl's mouth was attached to the side of the boy's neck as it twisted to glare at me. My heart skipped yet another beat as I realised it was James obscured in the shadows of the tree. Of course, of all the people I could have run into, I ran into him. Their moaning sounds disgustingly disturbing as they reached my ears. I winced loudly, despite myself.

All the bubbling feeling in my body from the butterbeer stopped. I felt my stomach drop, my heart sink, my hands tremble in the late summer evening. Jessica tried to twist his face back towards her as she attempted to kiss him. James was having none of it.

'Like what you see Lestrange?'

He had finally detached himself from the circle of Jessica's skimpy arms, facing me fully, emerging from the shadows.

'Ah. Don't flatter yourself Potter. I'm not a fan of teenage porn.'

And with that declaration, the staring contest began. I wasn't even surprised as we pulled each back into this little habit. It all came to us as second nature. Behind us Jessica wailed about feeling cold or something along those lines, only to be blatantly ignored by both of us. 'Left without a date?'

He was getting dangerously closer, almost within arm's reach.

'Why? Do you wish to attempt another try?' I replied dryly.

'Are you suggesting I should?'

I let out a sarcastic laugh, I had had enough. He could date whichever bimbo he wanted. He was having none of it, then why should I?

As I turned to leave, his arm shot to stop me. It felt like a vicious cycle by now. I attempted to escape him and he would trap me instead. My stormy grey eyes clashed with his golden ones. His eyes would burn through me and mine would thaw like the cold stones they resembled. His melting. Mine frozen.

Fire against ice.

'This could have been you.' He whispered into the night.

His hands had curled around both my upper arms now, clutching me close as we stood flushed against each other, his forehead rested against mine, the tips of our noses brushing, both our mouths parted in anticipation, less than an inch away.

'Hell, I want it to be you.'

Our ragged breathing mingled as one, as his firewhisky laced breath washed over my face and my butterbeer laced one washed over his.

This is what we did to each other. We could make the rest of the world fade away whenever we'd collide; caught in our own little bubble where only our self and the other existed. Time would seem to stand still. It felt like the sort thing you find in those muggle romance novels that Dom liked to read. Clichéd and corny.

All my senses were heightened. My skin tingled where his fingers clutched me, my face burned as his breath fanned me and the pit in my stomach dropped further.

The bubble burst as I heard Mike catch up to us, the shuffling of his feet loud behind me.

'Don't touch me!'

I pushed, breaking free from James, he staggered back as I pulled myself out of his touch, shocked as he took in the change in my mood. I grew angrier as I noticed the mark left on his neck by Jessica, skin swollen and blotchy against his somewhat golden tan which had been a direct result of playing Quidditch in the summer sun for endless hours. She was nowhere to be seen, but her presence hung in the air, stagnant, heavy. She had marked her territory. It screamed out to me, laughed in my face, mocking me; reminding me that what I wanted could not be mine. I was seething now. James wrath matched mine. He too was breathing heavily.

'Hey! Watch it mate.' Mike's calculating voice filled in from beside me. He threw an arm around my shoulder for good measure.

'Who the fuck do you think you are?' James voice was incredulous. I saw his features twist in hatred as he addressed Mike.

'I'm the boyfriend.'

My eyes grew wider as the words left his mouth. Lips parted in shock, creating a perfect 'o'. I bent my head down to use my hair to conceal the expression of shock on my face. Had I heard him right?

Did he just say... More importantly, did he just confirm?

'The what?!'

Stole the words from my tongue Jimmy boy, stole the words.

'The boyfriend.' Mike's voice was calm. Too calm. I remembered soon that a similar reaction would be expected of me if I had to make this sound believable. I lifted my head back up. Eyes staring defiantly ahead, shoulders straightened in arrogance, neck stiff with pride.

But inside, I was positively freaking out. I decided to focus on James instead. His features were dark with jealousy. He was eyeing the arm Mike had around me, his teeth gritted, his jaw set. He growled like an angry lion before he left the scene, my eyes following him as he marched down the path I had just run up from, the muscles in his shoulders tense, palms clenched into fists at either side.

'My boyfriend?'

I questioned confusedly.

'He's the one, isn't he?'

I only stared at the spot where James had stood.

'It's Potter. He's the one you cannot have.'

I nodded silently. Tears threatening to spill down my cheeks. Michael pulled me closer into a brotherly hug.

'I'm sorry.' He whispered, resting his cheek against the top of my head. 'I was only trying to protect you. You seemed so angry and upset. It was the first thing that came to my mind and I blurted it out. I know it's unlike me, I'm sorry. But you haven't bothered correcting me, so I'm guessing we're fine.'

Muffled laughter escaped between my snobs. I sniffed pulling away and wiping my face.

'It's okay. This isn't your fault. There is nothing you could do anyway. Whether I date someone or not, I know I still can't be with him.'

He nodded understandingly, taking my hand in his as we walked down the street. Suddenly, I felt like I was seven again. Hurt and embarrassed.

* * *

The walk back to Hogwarts was uneventful and quiet. I was too absorbed in my thoughts to notice we had already reached the gate. Michael tugged on my hand lightly, indicating me to the front.

Edward stood at the threshold, a grin gracing his lips and with Hannah beaming beside him. I blinked and shook my head. Great. I was hallucinating now. That's a new low even for me.

I averted my gaze to the ground, fumbling my fingers together as I proceeded forward.

'I was out for almost three weeks and you decide to ignore me when I return?'

My head shot back up, Mike chuckled softly beside me. I cautiously proceeded forward, poking Ed straight in the chest for confirmation. I gasped at the touch. It was true. He was back in his very flesh and bones. He was healthy and laughing at my antics. Hannah's eyes were gleaming with joy. We both laughed together, Mike standing right behind me. He stepped forward clasping Ed's hand and tapping his shoulder in one of those classic bromance hugs. The night didn't look so dreadful anymore. Hannah looked happier than she had in days and I couldn't stop the grin that crept up my face. They were back together. Right where they belonged.

'I don't know about you lot. But I sure as hell could use some food.'

Again, it was Ed who spoke. Hannah merely rolled her eyes. I was positively at a loss of words.

All his scars and bruises had disappeared. He looked just as before. Like the past three weeks had not happened at all. Except that they had, Ivor and Henry were still roaming the halls, possibly plotting their next move. The thought both frightened and angered me. Nothing was right. There was nothing I could do.

All of us had taken our time reassuring Edward was alright, asking occasionally if he was feeling better, if he wanted anything, how horrible all the potions he was force fed were.

* * *

'We have to celebrate.'

'The fact that the Quidditch team suffered in your absence?' Everyone turned incredulously to stare at Albus's comment. I caught his eye as everyone awkwardly shifted in their seats. Damn those rumours. I enjoyed my previous silent, minimalistic 'lets-only-nod-at-each-other' interactions. Simpler times.

'No. The fact that I'm back. But let's come back to that later. I've missed too much in the time I was gone for.' Ed replied.

We all sat hurdled around the table in the Great Hall for dinner; Mike, Charlie and Scorpious beside me, Albus, Edward and Hannah in front of us at the Slytherin table. It had been a week since Ed came back, attending classes, catching up on missed work along with Heads and Captain duties. Luckily, he had returned before tryouts had to be held for the team. Scorpious told me that a couple of days ago when he heard news of him waking up.

Edward had successfully been toggling all his work, returning back to the dorm often late, either from the library or after meeting with Hannah. How was I so sure I hear you ask? The lipstick marks on his face weren't cleaned up very well. As if that wasn't enough, I had been getting blow by blow descriptions of just how amazing Hannah was every time he stumbled back in the dorm. By now I had heard about the exact shade her irises were, the merry of her laughter, how snoggable she was, it had all been Hannah this and Hannah that. In the past week I had acquired enough knowledge about Hannah from Ed only to be able to write a book on her. Merlin, could the boy talk and make you listen to his rambling. He was so smitten; I deeply enjoyed teasing them at every opportunity I got.

It made me crave though. There was a time when I thought I had a real chance at being happy. Being thirteen feels naive now. All I have is a fake relationship with a guy who is most probably fucking one of my former best friends on the sidelines that I myself have developed a mutual brotherly relationship with.

You may laugh at my pathetic excuse of a social life just this once; I'll try not to hex you.

But one day when I become the Healer I wish to be against all odds, when all this teenage drama will fade away into the meaninglessness that it is, I will laugh in your face and say 'Boo ya.'

Oh I will. Have no doubts.

Beyond our group I could see Dom and Rose sitting together at the opposite end of the Gryffindor table with Lily and Hugo. Matt, James and Fred sat the other end with Matt uncharacteristically snogging a blonde whose face I had close to zero view of. The two were so immensely tangled that I had a hard time guessing who the girl really was.

'We should. But first we need the enemy to leave. Sorry dear brother.' Scorpious's comment brought my mind back to the table. Everyone turned to pointedly stare at Mike and Charlie sitting on either side of me, yes, the two still guarded me, Mike more so due to his newly _officially_ acquired boyfriend title.

When we got back to the castle from our last... let's call it an encounter, shall we? We had a long talk. Mike admitted to liking 'this girl', whose name he also successfully avoided mentioning. 'This girl' had his heart, I could clearly see as much. From his side of the story I learned that after multiple attempts, he was beginning to give up. He, like myself, couldn't fully explain the complexity of our so called relationship. I mean. Come on. Let's be realistic. It's the 21st century. People don't tend the buy the whole need-to-fake-the-relationship-bullshit. Well I haven't tested that theory, but Mike's failure was disencouraging enough.

Which brought the second question of the hour forward.

Why hasn't Dom talked to me since?

Does she really not believe him?

Merlin, is this her avoiding me?

Am I meant to talk to her and clear things out as well?

Where's Mike when I need him?

Oh right, he's sitting next me, in a hall full of people who believe we are dating.

We had to stay together to not get disowned. Both of us. It helped, the fact that we were in this together. Even though for mere moments, we both were able to encourage each other to fight against the situation.

Hannah drilled me endlessly for details, still does; I told her there was nothing special going on. I didn't wish to add another person to my list who I'd have to lie to. I was beginning to get fond of her. I was sure that on some levels she did understand the complexity of it. I could see it in her sympathetic stares when I'd avoid the topic.

Ed was a different story, post relationship declaration, he high-fived me. Said and I quote: 'atta girl' (the meaning I still don't know of), ruffled my hair and gave Mike a stern look asking what were his intentions with my Liz. Hannah and Charlie only bothered gracing us with laughter was we drowned our drinks in the Slytherin Common Room one night.

But right now Charlie scoffed at being asked to leave the table, Mike however silently began to oblige pausing midway at the former's reaction.

'Seriously? Why do we have to leave and Liz gets to stay?'

'She's more Slytherin that all of us combined.' Albus muttered meeting my gaze, again, everyone turned incredulously to stare at Albus's comment. My eyes flashed dangerously in his direction hoping he'd keep his mind shut from now on. People around us were peering into our conversation, some expectantly looking for my reaction. I only wondered if Albus had talked about our last exchange with anyone at all. Charlie and Mike left soon as I continued pondering over this thought.

'Right. So here's what we're going to do. Before Ed got...' Scorpious paused as he thought of the right word to use, I saw Hannah visibly tense, as Scorpious relied on a simple wave of his hand to describe Ed's 'situation', 'the Gryffindors charmed our broom to summersault and what not in the air. I'm thinking how about we do the same to their brooms? Or worse, sabotage their tryouts?'

'No. We play clean on the field.' Ed disagreed.

'Who's to say they're going to find out its us.' Scorpious interjected.

'I like how you think Malfoy.' Albus said, leaning back a little as he crossed his arms. 'Besides, those Gryffies need to get their ego deflated. Merlin knows my brother's got a big head.'

'Wouldn't it be too obvious?' Hannah reasoned. 'If you prank the team alone, you're targeting. It'll be easier to play the blame game.'

'She has a point.' I chose to say.

'They won't find out Lestrange. And we won't be doing the amateur hexing broomstick bullshit. We're talking real sabotage here. Only harmful enough to throw them off momentarily. It's up to them to choose to recover. '

'Huh!' I scoffed. 'You wouldn't hurt a fly.'

'They wounded our ego!' Scorpious exclaimed, slapping his hand against the table top as he counter argued, affectively gaining the attention of people within a 50 feet radius, give or take.

'Easy Tiger.' Hannah reasoned once again. I loved how she was growing onto the boys. They had begun accepting her as part of the group.

'How about this? And back me up here will you, Liz?' she looked my way expectantly. 'We do a series of pranks. Of varying degree? To camouflage the real culprits. We target all the Gryffindors, but the team a little more? They won't know what hit them.'

'I like the way you think Wright.' I had to admit. Leave it to a Rawenclaw to find the logic to plan chaos.

'Thats my girl.' Ed beamed as he sloppily kissed Hannah proudly, earning gagging noises from the boys. Hannah just threw them the finger in return.

Yes. She definitely was growing onto them.

'Alright. Ed, mate. Back to the plan.'

'So what are we looking at?'

'We could spike their food?'

'Or dye their hair red?'

'Too amateur.'

'Underwear flags?'

'Balding spells?'

'Shrinking charm?'

'These are all easily detectable. We need an opening number.' I finally spoke up as I heard the others.

'These are too mundane. We need to step outside the box.'

'And what might that be?' Hannah commented.

Ed smiled at her sweetly. Now I wanted to make gagging noises.

'How about I take care of that. Something that baffles everyone. Gets them talking.'

'Yes. But what exactly?' Scorpious pressed curiously.

'Let's leave her be, she's already back to living inside her head.' Ed's words echoed around as I began formulating my contribution.

My mind raced as though I had just had an epiphany. I smirked despite myself, standing up from my bench and ignoring the others. As I rushed out of the Great Hall, I saw Mike and Charlie seated beside Dom and Rose, Charlie too engaged in a conversation with his brother's girlfriend to notice the palpable tension between Dom and Mike.

 _ **A/N: Isabella is a bitch. It's okay. You may hate her.**_

 _ **AND EDWARD IS BACK. DUE TIME, RIGHT? RIGHT?! WHAT DO YOU THINK ALL THE TALK IS ABOUT. LET ME KNOW IN THE BOX BELOW.**_

 _ **(I should really take it easy on the caps. Lol. )**_

 **Up next** _ **:**_ 'Do you have it in you?'

'I... don't quite follow.'

'To give him a chance.' He didn't have to say who. I knew who he meant.

'That's beside the point.' I was my turn to tense.


	7. Chapter 7: Suits of Armor

_**A/N: I have had the worst writer's block ever. The worst. I think some of it is still there.**_

* * *

 _Her feet shuffled against the floor as she tiptoed across the empty hallway, palms balled into fists which contained thick paint between them, a sly grin crossed her face. The suits of armour lining the walls acted as a silent army, for or against her, she wasn't quite sure._

 _Her father wasn't aware of her rebellious act. She had taken up Muggle Art at the beginning of her third year and was positively loving all the subject had to offer. Her peers frowned upon her choice but she had enough information on them to blackmail them into not blurting it out for a while, the art of manipulation was being progressively accomplished by her. She thought her plan would work, but come winter all hell would break loose at her house._

 _Unaware of what the future held, she acted in the moment, she relished her growing friendship with James, the two were becoming inseparable now. One would surely be found with the other; this news would soon reach her father's ears and would be followed by a 'reprimanding'. Back in the day, William Lestrange was still able to hold in his liquor and be in his senses enough to force his rules onto his only child._

 _But she didn't care, she liked James, her father wasn't at Hogwarts, his minions were only just and nothing that threatened her enough to stop her. Alya was her only ally, Edward would laugh every time James would throw him dirty looks for being around his best friend, Dom's vibrancy would energize them more and Charlie would guard Isabella from the others as best as he could. Despite not being the best of friends growing up, the two still looked out for each other._

 _She was frantically searching the deserted corridor to locate James, the paint wet and sticky between her palms._

 _She yelped in surprise as a pair of arms tackled her from behind, pulling her in a headlock, two figures collapsing onto the floor in an eruption of laughter and shrieks. They twisted around, wrestling, Isabella still careful to keep her fists closed. As soon as the opportunity presented itself, she rubbed her hands along James's face, dragging them down onto his uniform, he only rubbed his face against hers in efforts to attack her with some paint as well, for all his war weaponry lay spilled across the floor around their feet, glass splashed as the bottles had broken._

 _In the heat of the moment, it was a miracle how neither had been injured by the shreds of the glass from the broken bottle._

 _All action terminated as Professor Longbottom's voice filled the air, his feet rushing him down to where the two mischief-makers stood._

' _My office, you two. Now!' The Professor seemed to be struggling to put up his most reproachful face. 'And James, you just finished a detention yesterday, can you not go twenty four hours without causing havoc.'_

' _Sorry Uncle Nellie.' James muttered, not the least bit looking shameful._

 _Isabella's reaction beside him was contradictory however. She stood frozen, her face paled as she contemplated the letter that would be send home informing her father about her detention, but that wasn't the thought that bothered her. The letter would mention the reason for detention, skiving her_ Muggle _Art class and being in a paint fight._

 _James sensed his partners panic and came to the rescue, taking all the blame onto himself, telling his Professor that only he had caused the mess, Isabella had only come out to stop him as sent by the teacher. Professor Longbottom could easily have caught the two as a result of one confrontation with the aforementioned teacher. He saw right through their white lies, but instead considered letting it pass._

 _Young James didn't yet fully understand why Isabella would always pale at the idea of getting caught, no one would answer him if he pried either, neither Dom nor Charlie, Ed he had begun to hate and would choose to avoid the bloke at all costs which meant he wasn't an option. But James felt the need to protect his friend no matter what, from all her fears, heroism taking a toll on him._

 _Professor Longbottom eyed the two suspiciously, until a pleading look from Isabella and he finally gave in and started towing James along him as he left, not before waving his wand to clean up the mess, leaving the paint that still covered his students just as it was._

 _As James walked away with the Head of his House, he turned back to catch a glimpse of Isabella. Face and clothes dripping in paint, yet a goofy smile stretched across his face, eyes glinting more than any colour that was on him._

 _Isabella returned the smile, the pallid in her skin beginning to vanish as a blush crept up her neck under all the paint._

* * *

I had crept down this corridor too many times with suspicious intentions. Time and time, my mischief found me in the same corridor, the echo of my shoes in the deserted hallway a little too familiar to my ears.

'Hey!'

A voice called from behind me, ricocheting off the suits of armour. My hair whipped about me as I turned in time to catch Matt running up to me.

He really was the most handsome of the Modern-day Marauders, with his blonde brown hair, piercing blue eyes and easy smile. He really was underappreciated for his looks alone. Right now his cheeks were a little flushed under his pale skin, hair flopping slightly from jogging as I waited for him to catch up to me.

'Anderson.' I said as a form of greeting.

My eyes flickered to his forehead, my handiwork still embedded across his skin, peeking out from the gaps between his fringe. He came to a halt before me, not even the least bit out of breath as he rested his hands over his waist, taking in only one deep breath.

'It's okay. Feel free to admire.'

He grinned sheepishly as he used his right hand to push his hair out of his face, away from his forehead. Matt's note came out as more friendly than flirtatious.

'Well, you know I'm not one to gloat.'

'Are you admitting it was you, then?'

'If you haven't figured that out by now, you won't ever be able to figure it out.'

'So it _was_ you, then?'

'That is neither a yes nor a no.'

'Oh come on. The smoke, the dust, the dark. It all screamed Lestrange, even to the deaf.'

He was right. The stunt might have my name written all over it in bold letters. As a Lestrange there were some things that were hard to let of go, exploitation of power being one. My otherwise perfect behaviour and class performance promised me a clean slate every time I pulled a feat, no one bothered suspecting me and those that did never informed on me, whether out of fear or pride, I wasn't quite sure. Most of the people at Hogwarts only knew me through the facade I put up, which made getting away without blame easy. Only a handful of people from my early friendships at this school, including Anderson, were aware of my capabilities.

The plan was simple; a box charmed, with smoke and dust, a single tap and the dust would brandish a slogan to the victim's forehead. This morning, several Gryffindors had received a collection of tiny red boxes at breakfast along with the daily post. The words, 'We fight till the end' were etched into the lid along with the Gryffindor emblem. It seemed a little superficial, even to me as I put it in action whether all would go according to plan or not. But I decided to waste a little of my father's unnecessary fortune while I was at it. He gave me the liberty to extract as much money as I wanted and I decided to spend said money on this deed. No one had suspected me to write words of bravery and valour. I was the coward that hid behind the thick walls of my Manor.

Our mind is a peculiar thing, if we read about something for long enough; we begin to believe in it, associate it to a certain memory or identity. Though it was a risk we took, a handful of Gryffindors from different years did remove the lid of the box that piqued their curiosity. Wisps of smoke rose at short intervals from different places along the length of the table. Some realising before others to not open the box. This was phase one.

The emblem and the colour red kept the blame games to other houses to a minimum. The gryffindors went on to believe that someone amongst them that been the source of this havoc. They were right. I am the Gryffindor that betrayed them. Yet, no one suspected me. Or so I believed. I guess it would be hypocritical of me to blame others for suspecting where my loyalties lay.

'That is not what I am here to discuss Anderson.'

He studied me a little for a bit.

'Enlighten me.'

'It's Dom. She's... she's not herself.' And she really wasn't. I had found out that she mentioned to Mike how she had kissed someone else, choosing not to disclose the identity of said person. Apologizing how it meant nothing and being unable to deny feeling anything. I could sense her inner battle.

Matt visibly tensed up at my words. His eyes, which had been playfully and friendly a second ago, were now glaring daggers at the floor. The sloppy lop-sided grin was replaced by a thin line and jaw clenched, he crossed his arms over his chest as his hands balled up into fists.

'It was her decision to take a break, not mine. So don't you give me that bullshit with her playing the victim. And why are so concerned with her?' He pointed a finger accusingly at me.

I took in a breath. Standing before me was Matthew Anderson, a heartthrob of Hogwarts, quiet, sensible, respectful. An orphan making through life with smiles and laughter. I learned he had money problems, but never had I seen him waver. I knew he lived without family, to me he felt more loved than I ever did. He was ambitious, he was loyal and he was broken-hearted.

'I'm not taking sides. I only want to know if you have it in you to forgive her. She could have kept this from you. But she chose to tell you. That has got to mean something.' I almost whispered the last part to him, looking intently at him for a reaction.

Suddenly Matt's head shot up, his eyes a similar melted golden to James, but James's irises had flecks of green around them, Matt's were a hue of brown that glinted with hurt, and another emotion I could not quite understand.

'Do you have it in you?'

'I... don't quite follow.'

'To give him a chance.' He didn't have to say who. I knew who he meant.

'That's beside the point.' I was my turn to tense. I stood up a little straighter from the wall I was partially leaning against.

'He never did anything to you. Yet you do not have it in you to give him a chance. Then why do you expect me to?'

* * *

By mid day, the prank wars were in full bloom. The Gryffindors walked into the Great Hall to find only their table filled with bubbles with no surface suitable for food or seating. That is where the blame game began. The first obvious suspects were the Slytherins. The two houses easily blaming their rivalled tryouts for the first match of the Quidditch Season.

As students filed into the room, chaos occurred, hexes flew about and detentions distributed at the blink of the eye. I saw Albus lose his hair, Scorpius grow a beard, a fifth year perfect Thomas-something barfing slugs and many others sporting unusual alterations to their appearances as wands flashed variegating lights. I couldn't entirely be sure how but amidst all the commotion soon the entire student body was pulled into the shenanigans as well. Hogwarts had suddenly gotten pretty colourful. Some students were sporting green hair, others blue skin, the student body now comprised of a kaleidoscope of colours, student resembling the oddest of mixed breeds with over-grown hair, teeth, tails, feet, and skin.

The Great Hall which was usually found in the four house colours looked like a rainbow today. Even my usual black locks had turned red with a hex gone wrong, the colour clashing horribly with Alya's purple head as we made our way down for lunch side by side. I was once again lost in thought.

Ayla always told me I lived too much in my head. Ed always took this opportunity to laugh and gloat that he knew more than her. Ayla would huff and scowl in response every time.

' _Do you have it in you?'_

' _To give him a chance.'_

In the short few hours between lunch time and dinner, I repeated asked myself this question. I had forced the Sorting Hat to put me in Gryffindor, putting my father to a test. As a child, and the sole heir to the Lestrange fortune my father rebuilt, I received plenty of attention. But was any of that attention what I needed if it was not coming from my father? So I told the Sorting Hat to put me in Gryffindor. I believed this act of mine would stop father from ignoring me, that he would finally acknowledge my existence within the cold walls of my 'home'. I however did not take father's wrath into account. Time and time I wondered what would have happened if I hadn't told the hat my choice. Would I be in Slytherin? Rawenclaw? Hufflepuff? Did I deserve to be in Gryffindor? Was I brave enough to admit emotion? At all? Ever? Could I one day tell him what I felt? What I continued to feel? Would I ever overcome the actions of Avery and Rosier from controlling my life? Would James's safety keep me forever mute?

I obediently sat down following Alya's lead, but my musing only came to an end when she snapped her fingers in my face, reverting me out of my day dream. As my eyes came into focus, I noticed who I'd seated myself across. And only, because only my luck works in this sort of a fated magnetism, it was James Sirius Potter. I believe it is safe to say that my life is more clichéd than a muggle teenage romance drama. I chanced a glance behind me at the Slytherin table to find that it was the one to be covered by a sticky green slime now, Professor Parkinson waving her wand around cleaning up the mess. The other three tables subsequently had barely any vacant seat available. It was quite something that Ayla and I found one. Weren't the tables charmed to fit any amount of students possible? How was it that the Hall seemed overcrowded? Or was that just me? Finding the space between me and Potter constricted and electrified with tension?

As I broke free from my speculations, I met James's eyes, seemingly assessing me as he uncharacteristically slowly chewed on some chicken from the tip of his fork, hands in fists at the tabletop, facing upwards, clutching utensils; savouring his lunch. His back was straight, shoulders relaxed under his school robes that had yet to be abandoned from his body.

Beside him sat Matt with his arm around Dom's shoulders, the two were engaged in a deep conversation with their heads pulled together. It felt a little superficial to believe that my talk alone could have caused this to happen.

'I thought this was over.' I whispered to my right to Ayla. She met my eyes briefly before muttering, 'Apparently not' as she started dishing out food onto her plate. My focus shifted to the writing on Matt's forehead. Rose had risen to the occasion quite brilliantly when this had happened, managing to fade the scribbling off of some of her house-mates. She still got a lot of hate for dating Scorpious. Ayla confirmed that there had been rumors flying around that some suspected Rose to have pulled of the stunts as she not only possessed the brains to perform the charms rather easily but also had motive due to her boyfriend.

But I knew better, if Rose was to prank. She would never do something mundane on several micro levels. It would announce itself, the prank, like the christening of a royal heir.

STOP looking so astounded. I do possess Muggle General Knowledge, including traditions about royalty.

I felt James gaze land back on me, I averted my eyes back to his; raising an eyebrow as if to say _what?_

He raised both of his as if to say _this was you, wasn't it?_

I rolled my eyes which if loosely translated meant you're _presumptuous._

He titled his head slightly to the left to say _I'm right._

I frowned in response to tell him _I'm concerned_ , eyes flickering momentarily to Dom and Matt, thinking about their on and off relationship. If someone was capable of shaking up this previously, pretty solid relationship between Matt and Dom, it could only have been someone as charming and persistent as Michael.

James sighed, shutting his eyes briefly, shaking his head telling me _they'll be fine. Don't worry._

I blushed furiously as I took in the full implications of what had happened. I pushed my dinner aside; having lost my appetite as butterflies decided to take abode in my stomach instead and exited the Hall, Ayla let me be.

The light-hearted humour of the previous day all felt like a delusion as the next morning dawned. Gone was the whimsical mood as my next class of the day, defence against the dark, approached. We had been divided into two sets, not by house, but by strength, though distinguishing one from the other was hard as the prank wars really had filled the atmosphere with electricity and no one could be distinguished as either Slytherin or Gryffindor. House divides were blurring evidently as students took the opportunity to tease each other as a result of the dynamic chain reaction. I had been paired with Emma Goldstein for this particular lesson, instead of Ayla, my usual partner, when it happened.

We took our position facing each other, but never got the chance to duel; my world came crashing down before we could get to that. I was escorted to out of lesson to the Headmistress's office. When I asked why, I was not answered and so had no choice but to obediently follow in the footsteps of Professor Longbottom. The feeling of anxiety that gave me goose bumps was nothing compared to the uneasy feeling that manifested in the pit of my stomach as I came face to face with the Headmistress. Her disappointed visage peered at me as she stood behind her desk. In the confinements of her office, below the portraits of several educationists, two other aurors were present as well. I briefly recognised one of them as a parole officer from after the attack on Ed.

I noticed a glass vial lying debatably on the desk before us too, placed delicately over a piece of dark silken fabric.

'Miss Lestrange, can you explain why we found the vial that contained the potion used on Mr. Potter in your dormitory?'

'I..What?' I asked exasperated, my eyes shifting between the vial and the auror who questioned me. They briefly flickered to McGonagall; she looked hurt and distraught for a split second until she recomposed herself to an act of indifference. If I felt anxious previously, it was nothing compared to what I felt at this revelation. I gulped as I processed the question, head heavy with apprehension, I tried to mask my fear as best as I could.

'I had nothing to do with this.' My voice was small when I finally spoke, barely audible as it came out in a whisper.

'Miss Lestrange, you will have to come with us for interrogations. Please step into the fireplace with my fellow auror.'

'I... Can I not contact anyone? Family? Friend?'

'You may once we reach the ministry. Please cooperate for now.'

Eyes set hard looking into the blank space ahead, I stepped into the fireplace. This was it, I thought. All these years of being so careful, so vigilant to not get caught, to never EVER get into trouble, gone to waste. This is what I'll be known as now, the girl who tried to kill a Potter, a pureblood filth who tainted a Hero's son.

What have I gotten myself into?

* * *

 _ **A/N: Woah, woah, WOAH! Do I have a flare for theatrics or what? Anyway. What do you guys think? I know this chapter is short as I spilt it into two chapters. It just didn't sit right as one. Also, I had some serious doubts about taking the prank part out of the story, I hope I did justice to it.**_

 _ **Hope you enjoyed this. Do let me know what you think. What you love? What you hate?**_

 _ **Thank you for reading. :)**_

 **Up next:** I gingerly took the envelope out of her hands, studying the surface where my name was etched into it in gold, cursive handwriting. I flipped it, opening the seal to withdraw the thick parchment from within.

'Who's it from?' Michael asked me between bites.


	8. Chapter 8: Equating

'Interrogation for investigation, 3rd of October, into offences suspected by Miss Isabella Lestrange, resident at Lestrange Manor. Interrogator: Howard Thornsfield from the Auror Department of the British Magic of Ministry. This interrogation is with respect to the attack on Mr. James Sirius Potter on the 19th of September 2021; please state your full name, age and occupation for the record.'

'Isabella Williams Lestrange. 17. Student at Hogwarts.'

The auror looked at me bewildered. Yes, I had my father's name as my middle name. Shocking.

'Miss Lestrange. Can you tell me where you were the night of the attack on Mr. Edward Lowell?'

'In the head's dorm. Waiting for him to return. I fell asleep on the couch.'

'Is it true that it was you who found Mr. Lowell injured at the pitch?'

'Yes.'

'And how did you come by to locate him in said area?'

'I had help. From both Scorpious Malfoy and Albus Potter. They were witnesses as well.'

'Of course. And how to do wish to explain the vial that we found in your room?'

'It's not mine.'

'So it just happened to be in your room?'

'It's not mine.' I repeated.

'It has your finger prints on it.'

'That proves nothing.'

'We believe you had motivation to harm Mr. Potter. You went to the extent to hurt your own best friend to cover your tracks.'

'I... I speak the truth. I'm innocent. Test me against veritaserum if you wish.' I shot back determinedly.

The auror was quiet for a while. He did not say anything for a moment. I did not blink. He had to believe me. He must. I _AM_ innocent. This cannot be happening. I knew the veritaserum idea was a long shot. Its use was strictly prohibited.

The door to the interrogation room clicked as another auror carrying a blue file entered the room.

'Miss Lestrange you may leave.'

'What?' The other auror asked confusedly to the one who had just entered.

'Christopher Kane is here. As is Draco Malfoy.'

'Wait. We still need your memory as a witness account.' The first one turned back to address me, visibly annoyed that I had links in high places.

I pressed my wand silently to my temple as I extracted a silver wisp of smoke.

'Professor McGonagall has my account too.' I stated as I rose from my seat.

Upon walking out I met Christopher standing by the edge of the visitation area. He smiled briefly as he saw me, the emotion flickering only momentarily onto his stoic features. Uncle Draco stood a little further, hands folded behind his back.

'Isabella, dear. Are you alright?'

I nodded, 'Yes.'

'We need you to explain everything that happened, alright? Don't worry. We'll get you out of this.' Uncle Draco reassured me.

* * *

As purebloods, we've been taught that mannerism is everything. The nannies hired to look after us would always go through a vigorous screening process to find the one best fit for the job. We were taught to be used to attention, to be so poised and perfect that it should make eyes turn, with admiration and envy alike. But this attention was unnerving, it made me feel naked, fragile and vulnerable.

Everyone was staring. From every nook and corner of the school, I found a pair of eyes following my movement, scowling at me, looking down upon me. The word had spread, that I was sure of. The crowd started growing as I crossed the foyer and entered the Entrance Hall. Seriously, how are this many people out of classes? How long was I at the Ministry for? What time is it?

The crowd began to part as I proceeded in. I was contagious; no one wanted anything to do with me. As the view cleared out and I got a glimpse of the staircase, I realised what was about to happen. The Potter Weasley clan was assembled in varying positions of sitting and standing. Everyone seemed to be there. Fred, Roxanne, Dom, Loius, Lucy, Molly, Hugo, even Matt. I noticed Albus Potter standing a little sideways, leaning on a wall, his hands clenched into fists by his side, his younger sister Lily standing nearby. They both wore identical expressions of absolute abhorrence as did the rest of their group.

I retracted my wand, ready at defence. The first hex flew my way, as they slowly began advancing onto me, descending the staircase; then the second and then the third, fourth, fifth, sixth. I was able to deflect these. But they were ten and I was one. Where are those Merlin forsaken Sacred Twenty Eight when you need them? They had the habit of following me around like lost puppies, always lurking in shadows wherever I went, but never with me in an hour of need.

Though on second thought, those being there may have resulted in a few corpses dropping, maybe it's best I was alone. The seventh hex hit me square in the chest and sent me flying back into the crowd, making my body and head ache. Lazily I pulled myself back onto my feet, only to find another hex being thrown my way that made me reacquaint with the cold stone floor. My ears were ringing and the hateful expressions of them were swimming in my vision.

I heard a voice yell over the noise of the crowd and my heavy head felt instantly lighter. I decided to stay where I was. Professor Longbottom's face swam into view before I fully lost consciousness.

I woke up two hours later. As my eyes began to readjust to the light in the room, I saw a nurse summoning Professor Longbottom. I found out that in the light of the recent events, which had made me a suspect of the attack on a fellow student, I had been put on probation. I was warned that every action of mine was now being closely monitored. The kind professor gave me another chance to confess if I knew anything or not.

I evaluated the situation at hand. Perhaps telling Uncle Draco could help. He was the least biased of them all. Maybe there was still hope. Maybe I wasn't in this truly alone. I knew I hadn't been particularly close (thank you dearest Aunt for that) but it was him who came to the ministry today. Maybe I needed to learn to trust a little. For now, I decided against it. I needed to make such a move carefully and wisely.

The nurse informed me that my fall gave me a concussion and demanded that I stay for the night. The dimming daylight of the exterior told me that dusk was approaching. In a window I saw the purple, pinks and oranges that tinted the sky. The day truly was coming to an end. As any wise person would react to abundance of attention and hatred, I too wanted to run and take comfort in my dorm instead. But that didn't happen. I had visitors instead. Visitors that weren't allowed after hours but were yet managing to sneak in.

The curtains of my bed were drawn. I lay wide awake, stirring constantly in efforts to fall asleep. But no matter how much I twisted and turned between my sheets, I could not seem to find a comfortable position to sleep in. Amidst the struggle, Charlie's stage whisper was what caught my attention.

'Keep it down you blithering idiot.' Ed was no better.

'Right. Be louder, that'll help us.'

'Oh come one, mate. It was to be that bed there.'

'Uh, thats a fourth year.'

I decided to put their commotion to an end. They clearly weren't doing a very well job of finding me or being discreet. Sitting up I swung my legs to the side and drew my hangings apart.

'You guys would make the worst search team ever.' I stage whispered to the lot, smiling despite myself.

The boys seemed frozen for a moment until they all began speaking at once.

'I told them that wasn't your bed.'

'This one here is just too fucking loud.'

'It was my idea to sneak in, these idiots wanted to fly through the closed windows.'

'Charlie and Scorp aren't skilled at this.' My comment earned a 'hey!' from both boys, 'but I expected better of you Ed. Where are your leadership skills?'

Mike stood by silently, 'Don't even get me started on you', I told him. And he smirked back at me, crossing the distance to drop a gentle kiss on my forehead.

'How are you now?' Charlie's voice floated into the silent air.

'I'm alright. Been better.' I answered truthfully.

A grin broke across my face as the others conjured up chairs.

Charlie sat at the foot of the bed with me, ruffling my hair. He drew the curtains closed again whispering a muffliato as he did so. I wondered to myself whether they had done this before too or not. Is this why the nurse hadn't been woken up by them?

'I'm sorry we didn't reach you earlier.' Scorpious apologized.

'You were there?' I asked, surprised.

'You think Longbottom appeared on his own? We called him.'

'They all have a month's detention.' Ed informed.

'They do?'

'Did you expect any less?' Mike questioned.

I pondered for a moment. No, no I did not. But my thoughts came to a halt as I saw Amalthea enter the wing through the crack in the curtains, I drew them bit as minimum as possible. She made a beeline to one of the beds, peeking inside, until she went to another and repeated her actions. Finally, she came over to my bed.

'The rest are waiting outside. Wondering whether you want to meet them or not.'

That's how she always was, curt and to the point. No small talk, no niceties, not even a how are you doing. She probably dismissed that once she saw me smiling at the boys. Who by the way were no longer smiling. She didn't bother acknowledging I had company either. The intangible presence of my father's followers hung in the air.

'Tell them it's my father they should be fearing, not my decision on whether they can visit me or not.'

The air grew even heavier as Amalthea turned to leave. Mike silently weaved him fingers through mine for support. Ed was the first one to speak up.

'When will you get rid of them?'

'I hope I do one day.'

'Liz and her army of minions.'

I scoffed at Mike's comment. It was all he had spoken so far. I gave him a glare.

'What's the use of having them when they won't show up when I need them?'

'Exactly. Drop them.' Ed persisted. I noticed something off about him in that moment. He seemed edgy, hyper attentive and aware. Ed was never like that. He was always a lot calmer, which made me question where was the one person who should help him relax.

'Hey. Where's Hannah?' I blurted out.

The boys shifted a little uncomfortably at that. Scorpious and Charlie shared a look before both began avoiding looking at me. Ed chose to glare at his feet instead, as if the answer was etched there into the leather of his shoes.

'She at present shares a difference in opinion.' Charlie spoke cautiously. 'As does Rose.' Mike added, earning a glare from Scorpious in return.

My merry mood had easily evaporated into the thin night air. People I cared about were being pulled into this trap for no reason. And they were suffering. The situation could not have been more complicated.

* * *

The next morning seemed as mechanical as any other. I showered off the dirt from last night and got dressed in my uniform for my classes. I slung my bag over my shoulder (I didn't bother levitating my books to float behind me this morning) and left my room.

I spent all of the breakfast hour playing around with the food Mike had piled into my plate, which explained why with only one class left before dinner my tummy was rumbling like an angry whale.

The entire day had been spent with me in a similar manner regarding competence, paying zero attention in classes as I pretended to take notes and each passerby whispering, pointing and sneering at me in corridors, classrooms and as they took up the seats of the Great Hall. If I thought that was bad, karma was about to tell me I was badly mistaken. Since my talk with the boys last night, I had had several judgemental confrontations. Scorpious seemed torn; he didn't want to choose between Rose and I. I made it simple for him by telling him to leave and be by her side; hadn't enough people suffered? He had to right to be happy. And if I knew Scorpious, I knew she made him happy. Michael grabbed my hand when that was over and escorted me to my next class instead. Ella had a row at me, Hannah gave me a disapproving look from across the corridor and Ayla looked at me in contempt. Amongst all the hateful looks, I saw Jessica wrap her arms around James protectively. I almost hexed her right there and then.

Michael was my sole saviour as of today. Throughout the years, as we had grown up and attended endless banquets, he had always been my escort. There were times I never saw or heard from him for months in a stretch. But come Christmas or summer, I found him by my side, keeping me company while I was paraded around in fancy dresses, leered on by men in the past two-three years, envied by girls my age. His touch wasn't something I was unfamiliar with. It made me feel protected and safe. I won't call him my older brother; I knew I did not need labels to justify the platonic nature of our friendship. He knew how it was, as did I. And that's all that had to matter for now. He'd held my hands countless times in public, rarely kissed my cheek or forehead to keep up appearances. It was easy, falling into the same pattern with him.

However even he couldn't help me when I sat down at my usual seat for the DADA class and noticed the word 'MURDERER!' smeared on my desk in red. My first thought was to see if someone meant it as a joke. I was met with a room full of scorn as I looked around me. From next to me Mike pulled out his wand to clean the letters but I merely pulled his arm back down and got my own wand out to clean the desk.

'Alright everyone! Today we will continue non verbal defence.' Professor Huckleberry thundered through the aisle of the classroom, her cloak blowing dramatically behind her with the clatter of her heels as she reached the front of the class. Michael had managed to slip out before she had entered the classroom.

'Pair up as I call out your names. '

Everyone stood up from their seats as the desks began to push themselves to the corner of the room. I ended up being paired with a slimy sixth year bastard who threw a fit that he wouldn't duel me in fear of dying at the hands of a murderer. He went on to accuse the professor of not having a care in the world regarding the student body's safety. Needless to say, he too is in detention. I ended up duelling with another sixth year Gryffindor instead.

Dinner was more than welcomed as the day neared its end. Five weeks into the school year and I already wanted an escape. Michael dropped down into the seat next to me. I reckon I was rather easy to spot. I sat alone at the end of the Gryffindor table, Dom and Ayla not talking to me and Ed and Scorpious isolating themselves as if to not pick sides, I didn't have much choice either. I had had enough of the smirks from Nott and Goyle, so the Slytherin table was out of question.

As Mike began eating like the perfectly mannered pureblood he is, Matt dropped in the seat opposite us. I met Mike's gaze as he smiled at me. In all my life, I could count the number of times he had smiled at me; his face was always too poised to be friendly. I don't blame him, it's how we were raised, to be devious and have silent conversations. Yes, half the time we are doubtful of getting the message along. His eyes shifted to stare at something behind me, above my head.

As I turned I saw McGonagall standing beside us. Her hands were folded before her, an envelope held between her fingers. A new sorting system for the daily mail had been instilled post prank. That day seemed ages ago, rather than a couple of hours. Every mail now received would first be checked before reaching the student body; though it confused me why I was receiving this letter this late during the day and not at lunch time like everyone else, and by the Headmistresses herself none the less and not the elves.

'This here was delivered for you.'

'Thank you Professor.'

I gingerly took the envelope out of her hands, studying the surface where my name was etched into it in gold, cursive handwriting. I flipped it, opening the seal to withdraw the thick parchment from within.

'Who's it from?' Michael asked me between bites.

'Lancelot.'

'What does it say?'

As my eyes scanned over the letters on the paper, I pushed away my dinner plate and got up from the bench, the letter dropping from my lap as I did so. I'd find out later that if I had turned before exiting through the doors of the Great Hall I would have seen Mike pick up the piece of parchment and read what had made me want to escape. If I had turned, I would have seen Matt look for James curiously across the dining hall and Amalthea perk up as I numbly exited.

Till now, I had been coping, thinking of a better future, thinking of liberating myself from all these mind games one day. But now, all the doors of hope had been locked shut, the key had been lost in the depths of the ocean perhaps and there was no spell that could make me a new one.

The breath stayed hitched in my throat momentarily.

Amalthea believed that even if I took the blame, I would remain as untouchable as I was right now, and with no solid proof, my father could get away with whatever he ordered his minions to do. But I didn't feel protected or elated.

My heart was drumming in my ears and shattering in my chest.

I needed an escape, the chatter of dinner resonating into the Entrance Hall was too light-hearted and my head felt too heavy.

My feet pushed against the ground as I began walking away looking for a getaway. My limbs gaining speed against my will and exhausted body. I wanted an escape. To be far away from this mess, just this once and never have to look back, never have to care or suffer. And so I ran. I ran and I ran and I ran. I ran until I lost my bearings, until the muscles in my legs burned, screaming me to stop. I ran until I was completely lost, unaware of the part of the castle I inhibited. I ran until I was complete and utterly lost and alone.

I entered a random unused room, my legs caved as I sat against the wall, tears flowing freely down my face now.

The entire day began flashing before my eyes, each hateful glance, every horrible comment. I tucked my knees up to my chin, my body shivering as I thought of the events of this past week. The door creaked softly and I heard shuffling of fabric around me, I kept my head buried into my knees, pretending I heard nothing. Maybe if I pretended hard enough, everything would go back to normal.

'Is it true?'

I lifted my head at the voice of my intruder. I drank in his presence, the light from the hallway illuminating him, dancing softly along the length of his cheekbones and jaw, eyes like melted pots of honey. He was livid. For once, I wished he wasn't looking at me. I saw his features twisted with pain, his hair ever unkempt, arms crossed against his chest.

I pushed myself to my feet, sighing sharply to suppress a sob.

I looked at him as I did so, he held my gaze as well, a boy that I had met when I was eleven, a boy I had spend more hours with than I could count, a boy I relied on, a boy who went lengths to get me to talk, a boy I yearned to speak my heart out to, laugh with; a boy I loved. Yes, love. Love is a strange thing, no? Out of the 7 billion people in the world, you pick one person and decide that yes, this person right here will have all the control they wish to exercise on you; you give them immense power over you. You decide you're going to let them destroy you, define your happiness, inflict you pain. Just that one person. That person is your everything.

'Is it true? Answer me.' I shut my eyes, trying to drown the anger and hurt in his voice.

'Stop. Please.' I replied feebly.

'Was it you?' He pressed again.

'James..' I struggled once more.

'Is it FUCKING true? Did you do it? Do you really try to kill me Izzy? WHAT THE FUCK?' He ran his hand through his hair, a cold laugh escaping hollowly.

'I never thought you could stoop so low. And I've SEEN you at your lowest. Why did you do it? Huh? Why? Answer me! What was it? Was it some contest? Let's see who can fuck over Potter the best.'

He was pacing in front of me now, palms fumbling as he pinched the bridge of his nose, curling into fists later.

'IS IT FUCKING TRUE?' he pointed a finger accusingly at me, his eyes crazy with hatred. 'DID YOU DO IT?'

'NO. It's not FUCKING true.' I finally found my voice, still thick tears despite coming out as a shout.

'I've just lost everything I held dear in my life. My friends. My reputation. My scholarship. My fucking future. EVERYTHING. So spare me if I don't have it in me TO FUCKING LOSE YOU TOO.'

James stood shocked at my declaration.

'Please James. I'm done. I've lost too much today. I can't lose you too. ALRIGHT! Not today... Not you. Not right now. PLEASE.' I pleaded the last word, masking none of the emotions coursing through me.

Sobs retched my body as I spoke my mind, my knees threatening to buckle from the exhaustion.

 _Not you._

 _Not today._

 _Please._

My words seemed to be echoing around the still room. In two swift strides, he was in front of me. His arms shot around me, he held me so close that I could barely breathe. I held the front of his shirt in my fists for support. He pulled back a little as he brought one warm, rough palm to rest against my cheek, pushing strands of hair out of my wet face, eyes boring deeply into mine. I sniffed like no body's business. As if in slow motion, his head dipped a little to kiss me softly at the forehead, my eyelids, my wet cheeks, the tip of my nose, and finally my lips. They lingered there longer, something as sweet and innocent as a persistent peck drove me insane.

My body responded on its own accord, my lips moulding around his, over-driven with emotion all over. Time stood still again, we were back in our bubble. His mouth was slow and endearing against mine, my arms wrapped around his neck to hold him in place, fingers tangling in his locks, pulling lightly at them, his hand pressed further into the small of my back, squeezing my waist. I heard a moan in the back of his throat.

Suddenly, his lips were hot and hasty, I could no longer breathe, and my mind was clouded with desire. It was like he was making up for lost time, from the first and last I had ever kissed him to now. I staggered back at the force of his kiss. I had not realised when my back had been pressed into the cold stone wall again, my skin burning wherever his hands touched me.

His pulled away briefly, studying my flushed face and swollen lips, our chests rising and falling in rapidly. His eyes were dark; he sought a reaction from me. I gave in to him, to his touch, his warmth and attached my mouth back to his.

My insides felt tingly, his lips were moving too fast against mine, I ran my fingers along the length of his arms as his hands rested on my waist. I put everything I felt into that moment. All my care, all my affection. He both relaxed and excited me. His hands cupped my face again, fingers running along my jaw, his touch growing tender by the second.

When we finally broke apart, we were both fighting for breath, our foreheads touching a little too familiarly. I pulled open my eyes, studying his face, the bridge of his nose, his furrowed eyebrows, his jaw and finally his eyes, they burned with an unknown emotion, deep enough to drown.

'Why can't you lose me Izzy?' his voice was rough.

'Because if I lose you, I lose myself too.' I whispered as I held onto him.

Then his lips were back on mine.

 _ **A/N: They did it guys. THEY DID IT! No. Not that yet, get your head out of the gutter. They finally kissed. Thoughts?**_


	9. Chapter 9: Aftermath

You know what happens when you give in to moments of recklessness and not think of the consequences? You end up more alone than ever. And no, don't get me wrong. I enjoyed my isolation thoroughly. As a child I had been enclosed within the walls of the manor, with minimal and controlled exposure to the outer world.

As a child I grew accustomed to being caged in four stoned walls. Curiosity got the best of me. I kept exploring, the good and the bad whatever else fell in between, that I came across, for that is all there is for entertainment. For that is all that stops your head from caving in. My mind was a wanderer, I had discovered. By choice or by consequence, I wasn't certain. The well guarded libraries of the Manor, with its secrets and enigma shaped me into the person I became today. It signified everything I didn't wish to be.

Knowledge is power they say. And anyone who would have knowledge about what happened in a vacated classroom between me and a certain Potter boy would have a lot of power over me.

Could I allow that? Let such a matter become public knowledge?

Not now. I was a coward. My instinct in my moment of passion had been impulsive and irrational.

I realise how out of touch I am with emotion. I realise, but I'm incapable of doing anything about it.

Which is why my answer is avoidance.

Mike gazed intently at me, at my dishevelled state, my flushed face and my irregular breathing, clearly deciphering that something had happened when I found him standing idly around the entrance hall. He gave me a slight nod before he fell in step with me and escorted me back to the Head's Dorm.

I knew this engagement was a scam. I knew we didn't feel romantically inclined towards each other and the fact that Mike and Dom were meeting behind my back should help cancel the guilt I felt for kissing James, but it didn't work that way. As we walked the corridor I realised how horrible it made me feel step by step. This was another lie, and that was all it could be.

We paused when we reached the door. The corridors were oddly still empty as we had made our way over. Perhaps because most students were still in the Hall dining. How simple was it all for them, to be shielded away from undermining family politics and superficial teenage hormones?

I quietly muttered the password to my dorm, wishing nothing but to bury myself in my bed and not face anyone ever. But Mike had different plans; he shuffled as he pulled out a crumpled piece of parchment out of his robe pocket. Only then did I realise that my own robes had been left discarded on the floor of a dusty classroom which I hadn't bothered retrieving as I had made my escape.

Mike's smooth fingers unfolded the parchment which had been the reason why I had left the Hall in the first place. He held it to me in the soft light of the torches. Our eyes met as understanding settled between us once more. But it just didn't feel right. I didn't want to tell him about James but at the same time the elephant in the room bothered me.

I sighed as I looked away ashamed. Mike pressed a soft kiss to my forehead and left without a word.

* * *

The cheers of the owls brought an ominous feeling along with them. The ringing eminent in my ears as the soft thud of mail dropping at various parts of the tables mingled with the chatter of the Great Hall.

It was the morning after.

After the visit.

After the letter.

After the kiss.

I rubbed the remnants of last night out of my eyes. I sat like the sad little sod that I am at the end of the Gryffindor table looking around lazily, wondering why everyone around me seemed so happy, cursing mornings and the world in general.

Elizabeth Corner sat opposite me; perhaps the only one besides me who didn't feel energetic this morning and wasn't chatting away with her peers; not to mention was probably always as bitter as how I felt at the moment. She gazed at me momentarily from above her copy of the Daily Prophet; her eyes appearing large behind her thick black frames.

'Feels good to be an over-privileged teenager I'm sure.' She remarked even more bitterly if possible.

She folded her papers back and threw the copy across the table to me.

Not a wise move, may I add, for the pumpkin juice toppled over the it, spilling its contents as it seeped into the parchment, staining it where a particular photograph's movement caught my attention.

'LESTRANGE CAUGHT IN THE ACT'

I saw myself, avoiding making eye contact with anyone in the crowd occupying the ministry entrance, Uncle Draco ushering me forward and giving an evil eye to whoever dared step towards us. Mike's father was at my other side in the frame, stone cold and equally stiff.

My eyes skimmed over the article under the heading, a few particular words jumping out to me. I lifted my gaze. Suddenly, the air around the room had seemed to shift. The whispers were more rushed; their sounds more anxious and the air heavier. But that reached its epitome as I saw the Lestrange owl enter the Great Hall, its wings spread wide in arrogance and its colour as dark as the practices of theirs truly.

The owl zeroed in where I sat at the table, its uncanny screeches having a deafening effect to the now silent Hall. The bird dropped the letter in my lap and took off again instilling just as much fright as it had on its arrival. The family crest glistening in the light of the day. A symbol that had once fascinated me had now grown to become something that I truly hated.

I stuffed the letter into my pocket, exiting the hall. I realised how my life could not get more monotonous than this. It now completely revolved around avoidance and isolation. I could almost hear my thoughts cave my head in.

This morning as I had gazed at myself in the mirror, I had picked up on every single flaw; the pallor in my skin, the shadows in my eyes, the sullenness of my frame. The weight loss was visible, the fatigue amplified, but the hollowness I felt in my chest was the hardest to quantify. I could feel something tear inside of me, slowly, achingly. Every day, at an excruciating pace, I could feel the pull.

I found a comfortable spot at the base of the tree. The roots mingling with each other, twisting and turning, much like the strings at my heart. I could slowly feel the will to do anything at all slip away. Eat, sleep, work. Every mundane task took the energy out of me. Every day, for the past five weeks, I had to force myself out of bed.

I pulled my wand out of my pocket, my fingers itching from idleness. I began tracing patterns in the air silently. Soon enough, my head felt clearer, my hand moving in swift commotion with a mind of its own. I had let go. I had lost myself. Perhaps that was why I hadn't sensed his footsteps as he had approached my stop by the tree.

He had a hard blazing look in his eyes. His stare alone was setting me on fire, the nerve endings in my body ablaze, if not by the heat radiating off him in waves. A sneer graced his lips as his face twisted in anger and confusion.

It was moments like these where I had to stop and re-evaluate every action I had ever taken. His anger spoke volumes of its own, silent screams echoing around. I pushed myself upright, placing myself firmly on my two feet.

The swirls of my wandwork were still amidst the air that hung heavy between us. I saw him momentarily look away from me and at my magic, until his eyes landed back on me, making me feel transparent with their intensity.

You may call it magnetism for all you want but I knew how James was fortunate whenever needing to navigate the castle in search of someone. But why wasn't I two steps ahead of him like I tended to be? Why was I letting him get to me? Why could I not resist? Why did I give him this power over me? After years of stealth had I given up and surrendered without struggle?

I had realised this on my way here to the forest. Avoiding everyone had taken the breath out of my body. I was letting my fatigue eat me up alive. And what was the most fearful part? I was okay with doing this to myself. I was growing abnormally normal about letting my mind be poisoned like this. Isolation tends to do this to you, you see. I sat alone in classes. I sat alone during meals, in my head's dorm, during breaks, during patrolling duties.

Having James in front of me made me realise how truly alone I was now. Rejecting, manipulating, endangering anyone who dared care about me.

I had been so solitary lately, that James's heated gaze was welcomed.

'Hiding away again, are we?'

The disgust in his tone made my swirls of white light vanish.

'I don't know what you're saying?'

'Huh. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?'

'Language Potter.'

'Do you mind explaining what the fuck happened?'

'Whatever do you mean?'

His eyes narrowed infinitesimally.

'I don't do sloppy seconds.'

I sighed for good measure.

'I never have. Never will. You want to be with me, you be with me. But I won't have you playing me. I've had enough of that already.'

'I'm not cheating on him.'

'Do I need to remind you where your tongue was last?'

No matter how hard you try, one can never conceal a blush, unluckily for me, the action happens to involuntary. I was sure I resembled a ripe tomato at the moment.

'I mean, I'd have to be with him to cheat him.' I tried saying, looking away.

'So what? It was all a convenient lie for you? Something to help you keep your pride?'

 _Yes._

'How fucking stupid do you think I am?'

James ran a frustrated hand through his hair, pinching his nose as a delirious laugh escaped his lips.

'There is nothing to ignore.' His eyes met mine again. 'Nothing happened.'

Had I made the mistake of blinking my eyes I would have missed it, because in a flash quicker than a second James was invading my personal space, his hands wrapped tightly around my wrists in fists, effectively pinning me to the trunk of the tree.

'Let me go.'

My voice was deadly silent. I felt humiliated and vulnerable. I twisted about in his hold. I didn't think at this moment it was humanly possible but James's hands held me in a tighter grip, I knew my skin would soon bruise like a peach.

'No.'

'Let me go!'

'NO!'

I twisted about again in his hold. His grip grew even tighter. I felt the blood circulation leave my palms. I tried wiggling my fingers, in hopes of getting some of the sensation back, but to no avail.

'You can't force me.' I cried.

Just as I was about ready to knee him in the groin, (yes, I do love the boy but he's being a bastard right now) the pressure from my wrists vanished. The pressure of his body pinning me to the wood and holding me hostage disappeared and my lungs relaxed in what seemed like infinity. I drew in a quick shallow breath as James turned his back on me, oddly missing his strength, warmth and resilience.

Damn me and my masochistic beliefs.

'Well. Maybe I ought to refresh your memory then.'

In another flash, the pressure of his body was back, only this time, the brutality of it wasn't making me fight but want more. His mouth crashed onto mine in a hard kiss. The shock of it widening my eyes as his steady, livid gaze poured into my soul.

The pressure of his lips went as it came, in a flash it was gone and James drew in a deep breath taking a step back. In the next moment though I saw how torn he was. He stepped closer once more, his feet performing a staccato waltz as he stepped away from and toward me. His hands held my face, melted honey gazing intently into my stormy eyes. One again, his lips met mine, my eyes fluttering shut at the touch of them. One hand of his slipped away and landed on my waist, the other resting at the part below my ear where my jaw and neck met. Just as I recovered from the initial shock and was about to begin reciprocating, his touch vanished again, leaving me hot and bothered, cold and empty, all at the same time.

I opened my eyes to see James standing with a safe distance between us, or as safe an arm's length distance could be considered. Lips swollen and a self-assured challenge in his eyes. A dare.

And the dare I took, because in the next second, my feet moved of its own accord and closed the distance between us. I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him with equal amount of force as he had, he staggered back in shock but his arms came around me in time, catching me and steadying us both.

All the pain, all the anger, the isolation, it all seemed minuscule as we touched, both of us battling for dominance yet a sense of surrender prevalent. We were a series of paradoxes and stardust, clashing yet thriving, no survival of one without the other.

My fingers entwined themselves in his thick, shaggy hair, holding him firmly in place as his tongue explored my mouth. He squeezed my waist in return, pulling me closer than ever. My lungs burned for air, but that seemed to be the least of my concerns, we both were making up for lost time and I for my part, was thoroughly enjoying being breathless.

The kiss slowed down between us, more tender now but no less intense, so intense that it made me melt.

I could no longer stand on my own two feet as realisation hit me like a pile of brick. I was kissing James. I was kissing James Potter. AGAIN. Why was I doing this to myself? Why? Why did I give in? With the way James was kissing me, it seemed like a REALLY silly question, but still. Why? After trying to avoid and stay away and play my part right, I was making the same fucking mistake again.

With all the force I could muster,(and with much reluctance might I add) I pulled myself out of his hold. His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to decipher what was happening. It was commendable how well I could read his face. For I saw all of the thousand questions he wanted to ask all at once.

Without answering even one of them, I turned and sprinted away from the grounds and back indoors.

* * *

'I heard about the reward from home.'

Mike threw an arm good naturedly around my shoulder as we both walked out of our DADA class. The others were there too, and we were still firmly refraining from each other. Ayla waved at me as she passed by us. Telling me she'd save me a seat in the next class.

Though she wasn't one, but my minions were busy fluttering around me like fan-girls still do around Victor Krum. They would carry my books, follow me to class and back, vacate benches to present better 'seats' in my honour and all that sort of bullshit. It had gotten highly infuriating. All in all I had spent an agitated week. The fact that Potter kept staring hadn't been of much help either.

I would try and look for his gaze all the time, it unnerved me how I couldn't find it now, especially with Mike's arm still around me as we continued to walk. His behaviour had been more and more relaxed lately; perhaps he and Dom are good for each other.

'I have yet to collect my prize.'

'She must have been proud. '

'I haven't opened the letter yet.'

'Why?'

'Hogwarts is one place where I can choose to ignore her as much as I want, why not avail the opportunity?'

'True.'

'What do you think it'll be?'

'Another chance to gloat at their sick beliefs.'

'Why don't you ever say anything?'

'Because I can't right now. One more year, and I'll run away from all of this. To hell with their fortune and their rules.'

'Or you could stay and fight.'

'I will. In due time, I will. For now I need to be patient. I need to live this through. Only then will I be able to fight this away. I need to learn first, then strike.'

'Don't worry.' Mike squeezed my shoulder in reassurance. 'When the time comes, I'll strike with you.'

We stopped in front of the Charms classroom. My absent mind finally realising that this wasn't the class I had next.

'Uh. Mike. What day is it today?'

'Tuesday. Why?'

'I have third period transfiguration on Tuesdays. Merlin I'm gonna be late.'

I turned abruptly to leave.

'Want a minion of yours to handle it?' He asked as I began walking away.

'No. I'll manage.' I replied over my shoulder.

As I walked, I noticed the corridors grow more and more vacant. The last of the students rushed to their respective classes and I turned another corner, one more corridor to go until I reach Seventh Year transfiguration.

But academic excellence would have to wait, I guess, because I felt a pressure at my wrist and a hand clamp down onto my mouth, cutting off my possibilities to scream the place down. Naturally my first reaction was to elbow my attacker; my wand was in my pocket and not in my hand for a hex to fly his way.

Just as my elbow met the hard muscles behind me, my senses registered the scent of my attacker.

'Jesus Isabella.'

I turned to find James rubbing the side of his ribs. He was standing straight, he didn't even bend over. Stupid, strong boy (man?) He is of age.

'Did you sharpen your elbows this morning?'

I threw a scowl at him for good measure. Who even says that? What choices am I even making? I drew in a deep breath.

'Why would you possibly think its okay to do that?' Should have expected this.

His lips were pulled in a thin line. I noticed how his hand that had been wrapped around my wrist was still there.

'Ever heard of the word 'discreet'? Try being that next time?'

'Do you even hear yourself? Why would you ever tell anyone under attack be discreet? That's the worse thing ever. What if your sister was in a similar situation?'

'Why? Who touched her? I'll break their face?'

'I said WHAT IF Potter.' I flapped my arm for good measure.

For all my life, I had been taught to be composed and calm. Discreet even. (Getit? Haha. Okay no. Greater problems at hand). And here I was, fighting with Potter, being loud, showing emotion, clashing, living, being.

I laughed at my own silly thought. A true laugh. Something I was certain that I had lost over time.

James scowled once more.

'This isn't funny.'

'Neither is tackling me.' I shot back.

'This wasn't a tackle, if anything you should be glad we aren't doing that.'

I smirked as my gaze went from his unrelenting fingers to his face that was rapidly starting to resemble a ripe tomato. I pressed my lips together to stop the laughter from bubbling out of my mouth again. I only raised my eyebrows in response to challenge him to elaborate.

James rubbed his free hand down his face as a growl erupted at the back of his throat.

'Come on.'

His firm but gentle grip on my wrist suddenly amplified all I was feeling. Electricity flowed through my bones at his touch as he tugged me along. The corridors were once again empty. The bustling had vanished, it had been replaced with an eerie silence and the irregular beating of my heart. We crossed one corridor until we reached the end of another where James pushed away a tapestry to reveal an alcove. He leaned against the window, his body tilted slightly. Once again, I was very aware of his fingers wrapped around my wrist.

'We have to stop.' were the first words to leave his mouth. I discovered that the mud clad on the corner of my shoes was less painful to look at than his face, this coming from a person who has the compulsive need to clean; you get the picture.

His warmth vanished from my skin, leaving me feeling suddenly very cold and distant. I looked up at James face. We merely stood a few inches apart in the alcove but my mind seemed to be miles away. He backed away from me into the corner at his side. I, reflecting his actions, followed suit and did the same. His gaze never left me though. Not even when he muttered the next words into the silent air around us, heavy with unspoken emotions and electricity.

'We must. I won't be the bloke you come to behind someone's back. I won't be your dirty little secret. You want to be with him, do. But then, I won't ever come to you. This stops today.'

He waved his arm between us, pointing at us both.

'Whatever this is, it stops. Tell me now, and I'll stick by your word. It's either him or me. I won't be the lad you cheat on another one with, no matter how much I fucking hate that bloke. '

A single tear slipped down my cheek. What was with me and bursting into tears every time I saw him?

It was as if my heart had been ripped out of my chest, crucio-ed repeatedly and flung back at me. This is all he thought I was. A cheat. This is all he thought I considered him. A dirty little secret. Who was I kidding? I had this coming my way. I had gone out and beyond to push him away. It would be hypocritical to expect anything from him now. But it still hurt. Perhaps, I was the one complicating things a lot more than they should be. A part of me wanted to grab him by his shoulders and shake the truth in him. Tell everything I had been feeling, the web of lies that I conjured on a daily basis. I wanted to say it. I wanted to say it all. The words were at the tip of my tongue, teasing my heart to pour itself out. I saw James swallow in anticipation, awaiting a reply. Anything.

But I stood numb, contrary to all the emotions flooding within me. I licked my lips, preparing myself to say:

'You're right. We must stop this. I won't ever bother you again.'

I saw something shift in James's eyes. He looked like someone had knocked the air out of him, his lips parted in shock, chapped now as his mouth dried. The arm of his that had been hanging between us falling limp at his side. He took a step back from me, moving away unblinkingly.

And that was the last thing I saw before I turned and left the alcove, my tears once again hindering my vision, my hand pressed against my mouth to hold back the sobs as I made a run for it.

 **A/N: You really thought I'd let them get together that easily. *does evil laugh***

 ***pauses and reconsiders life choices***

 **Please don't hate me.**


End file.
